Free Falling
by A.Steele
Summary: Eric/Ryan Slash: Rating may go up. CSI: Miami, history rewritten. What if Ryan met Eric without the hostility of Speed's death hanging over them? What would bring them together? And what's the secret that could pull them apart? Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

**hey everyone! thnx for giving this fic a chance, it's my first CSI: Miami one, so I really tried hard w/ it. please review and let me know what you think! **

**Pair: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko**

**Warning: SLASH!!! Rating may go up depending on reviewer's opinions and how the storyline plays out.**

**Note: Speed doesn't die in my world. Instead, I'll probably relocate him just to make space in the lab for Ryan.**

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Ryan let out a muffled grunt as he attempted to lift the weight's bar off his chest. The gym trainer, who was supposed to be showing him the equiptment, was a real S.O.B. Instead of helping him find a good weight range, he'd just given him a weight twenty pounds too heavy and let Ryan struggle for a while, before coming over and lifting it, laughing under his breath as Ryan gasped for air.

Bastard.

He hissed angrily as he watched his 'guide' flirt with a tall, legy blonde over by the water fountain. Well, he definately wasn't going to be back any time soon... shit. Ryan's vision flickered as the lack of air started to get to him. There had to be something illegal happening here. As a ring of black began to circle his vision, Ryan idly wondered if he could have the gym trainer arrested for, what, manslaughter? What an embarrassing way to go. Suffocaion by bench-press.

Fortunately, however, Ryan was spared the internal cringing of imagining what his tombstone would say when the pressure on his chest suddenly disappeared.

"Damn, man, what the hell were you thinking trying to lift this much? I can't even lift this much yet, and I've been coming here for a few years. I'm surprised you were able to hold it up so long." Ryan tipped his head back to meet the gaze of one of the sexiest men he'd ever laid eyes on. He was tall, about half a head more so than Ryan, with thick black hair and a gold, coppery skin tone. His black wife-beater was sticking to his chest, emphasizing the defined muscles underneath. He was, of course, laughing.

"The trainer," Ryan wheezed, still breathless. "He's a real ass. Said to try and find my weight range, loaded the weights, and walked off." The man walked around the bench and offered Ryan a hand, heaving him to his feet.

"I saw you from the card counter when I was checking out, so while they logged my workout into my program, I noticed you weren't lifting up the weights, then that you were struggling against what must be twice your weight. That, and that your face was turning blue." He grinned again, white teeth flashing, leaving Ryan momentarily stunned before he stuttered a reply.

"Yh- Yeah, I was silently pondering what an embarrassing death that would have been. The killer free-weight. Thanks, though, you saved me from a rather anti-macho death certificate. I'm Ryan, by the way, Ryan Wolfe." A shiver went through Ryan as the man grasped his hand again.

"Eric Delko. Do you usually come here? Or was it just the thrill of the challenge?" he asked gesturting to the weights. Ryan laughed.

"Nah, more like the fear of my boss. He wants everyone to be in tip-top physical condition, and if there's one thing I don't want, it's my supervisor on my ass for letting a suspect get away."

"Suspect? You're in criminalistics?" Eric asked, eyebrows raising. Ryan's voice cooled considerably when he replied, reminded of how his parents had reacted when he'd said he wasn't going to go for a degree in buisness.

"Yes, I am. I find it very worthwhile," Ryan responded, coldly, even more angered when Eric's grin only widened at his reaction.

"Chill man, or thaw, I guess. It's just funny. I work in the CSI lab downtown. What department are you in?" Ryan relaxed, glad that he wouldn't have to rule Eric out of his rather short list of potential friends. The reason the list was so short decided to surface just then. As Ryan glanced down at the stack of weights next to the bench, he noticed that they were completely out of order, shifted by people looking for their weight. Ryan forced his eyes away, clenching his hands to hide the twitches.

"I'm in Patrol. I'm thinking about switching though. I recently finished my degree in chemistry, and I don't want it to go to waste," he grinned. Eric returned it, then swore as the pager clipped to his waist went off. He glanced at the name then turned appologetically to Ryan.

"Shit, sorry, I've got to go. Duty calls," he grumbled, glaring at the pager briefly. He started to walk away, then paused, looking uncertainly at Ryan. "Do you, I mean... if it's okay, well-" he took a deep breath. "If you want to give me your number, I can keep you updated about any possible openings in the lab." He looked at the floor when he said it. Ryan had no doubt he wasn't used to having to _ask_ for someone's number. He smiled rather self-conciously at Eric, and the more submissive look seemed to help him reinflate his semi-dented ego.

Ryan walked over to the card counter and wrote his name and number down on the back of an add for a yoga class. Handing it to Eric, he flushed slightly at the whisper of desire he was sure was present in the taller man's eyes. Then it was gone, and they were giving each other a brief wave before departing.

Ryan watched Eric walk back out the door before diving for the stack of numbered weights.

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Eric eyed the number written on the back of the flyer on his way back to the hummer. Ryan Wolfe... it was a weird name, but it fit its owner in strange way. Maybe it was his large, green-and-gold flecked eyes, lined with long, curled lashes, or the submissive feel in the smaller man's body language, how he positioned himself around Eric's movements. Whatever it was, Eric decided to keep the paper in a safe place to make sure he didn't lose the number.

His beeper went off again as he was entering the Miami Crime Lab. Ignoring it, he went straight to the caller, tapping on the glass window of her office.

"What is it Calleigh? You'd better have good news on this case, 'cause you pulled me away from an important conversation," he growled.

"Well, I'm sorry if you'll have no one warming your sheets tonight, but I do have good news. See the glass we found at the scene? Alex found some of the same glass embeded in the vic's cuts. So we can place them at the scene. Sherry Freud was lying, she had to have known our vic." She paused as Speed walked in, radio in hand.

"Our missing suspect was also tracked down by patrol. Well, more like he found them."

"What?" Eric looked back up at him over the pictures taken from the microscope.

"He tackled some guy coming out of the gym about ten minutes ago. Apparently he was looking for a hostage or somethin'. Stupid place to do it though, I mean, you could have accidentally attacked a wrestler or something, which he probably did since the man he was supposed to be attacking knocked him out. A woman in the parking lot called dispatch. The suspect had his wallet on him. This guy was a real amateur."

Eric rolled his eyes. How could you possibly be so thick as to attack someone in broad daylight with your wallet still in your pocket when half the city was looking for you?

"Anyway, his name's Jacob Drewers. When the officer called dispatch, they searched his name for a record, and the prints that were recorded in AFIS matched the nameless prints we had put out county-wide. The officer himself is bringing him in."

"I want to help with the interview! I wonder how much we can make him sweat before he gives out? I hope he'll at least be able to hold out until I show him the skin samples," Calleigh said thoughtfully. "I love to watch 'em sweat." She flashed them a grin then danced out the door to hunt Horatio down and tell him the news. Speed watched her go with raised eyebrows.

"What the hell did you slip in her coffee? She remeinds me of a toddler. So, don't you wanna hear more about this suspect?" He waved the manilla file folder in front of Eric's face, clipping his nose with the edge. "Oops, sorry." Eric rubbed his abused nose, releasing a resigned sigh.

"So you say he attacked someone?"

"Yeah, the guy was a Patrol officer, got a crowbar to the back of the head. He must be one hell of a cop, he was hit multiple times and still managed to punch the guy hard enough to knock him unconcious. I really want to meet this guy, they said he's comin' in with the suspect." Speed was bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation.

"Whatever Calleigh was drinking, she obviously shared. You guys are acting like little kids," said Eric, frowning as the former practically tackled Horatio at the end of the hallway and shoving the file at him before running off to find Alexx, leaving the older man dazed and confused. Eric walked over to him.

"Are we the only sane ones left?" he asked as a shriek, probably Alexx's, came from the coroner's office then an appolegetic "Sorry!"

"Eric, since you seem to still be able to... control your enthusiasm, I want you to go meet the suspect and get a statement from the officer to add to his charge. They're waiting in the lobby," sighed Horatio, walking over to the morgue doors to correct whatever had gone wrong. "Meet me in the interview room."

"Will do, H." Eric pushed open the staff door and walked down the halls to the building's lobby. He gave the handcuffed man a quick evaluation before fixing his gaze on the cop. He felt his jaw drop. The receptionist next to him giggle at his reaction.

"Yeah, I know, the cop's a real dish, isn't he? Send him to me with your done, sweetie," she laughed, reaching over the counter and giving him a little push. Eric walked over, shifting uncomfortably.

Ryan Wolfe, of all people, was standing next to Freud, a large, black and blue welt across his left cheek. His hand was resting on his gun, tightening each time the suspect twitched. Eric still couldn't help but marvel out the intesity of his green eyes before forcing the thought away in an attempt to regain some of his usual bravado.

"And so we meet again," he said, biting the inside of his cheek when Ryan jumped. Then he relaxed and grinned, wincing as he did so. "Damn, you're really having on off day."

"Yeah, I was just beginning to think that myself. You want to take him, or do you need me to stick around?" Ryan shot Frued a dirty look as the suspect shifted. "Move one more inch and I'll knock you the fuck out," he hissed.

"Yeah, we need a statement from you. My boss is waiting to interview Frued, just follow me." Eric turned around and walked back up the hall, relieved to be released from Ryan's hypnotic, unblinking eyes. He held the door as the younger man led Frued into the lab and through the door to the interview room and into Horatio's clutches. Eric was a little disappointed that he couldn't watch Horatio and Calleigh rip the bastard appart, but he'd trade it for a little more time with Ryan any day.

"Wait, are you the cop who brought in the suspect? 'Cause you're a lot smaller than I thought you'd be. Or did someone else catch him?" Speak of the devil, Eric thought as he turned and saw Ryan backed into a corner, Calleigh in front of him, arms crossed.

"No, I'm the one who caught him. He tackled me coming out of the gym. Erm, who are you?" he asked uncertainly, looking to Eric for help. Eric covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing at the rather fearful look on Ryan's face as Calleigh stepped closer to examine the welt on his face.

"So _you're _the one who knocked him out?" She hurried out her next words at the insulted look on Ryan's face. "It's just I was expecting some muscley, meat-headed cop who'd just sat on him instead. If you want, Eric will give you something from our first aid kid for your face. Anywho, I'm off to barbeque the bastard." She walked passed them and into the interview room, leaving a shaking Eric and a relieved Ryan behind.

"Come on, I'll get you something for your face. We've got some bandages and crap in the locker room," said Eric, leading Ryan around the corner and into said room, almost walking into Speed.

"Hey, man, who's your friend?" Speed asked, looking Ryan over curiously. Ryan shifted uncomfortably and edged behind Eric slightly at the predatory look in Speed's eyes. The look set Eric on edge. He stepped in front of Ryan, blocking most of him from view.

"Ryan Wolfe, he's the cop who got our suspect in the parking lot. Horatio and Calleigh have already started questioning him."

"Holy shit, Wolfe, he really clipped you one with that crowbar, huh? That's one nasty brusie. There's a-"

"First aid kit in the last locker, I'm already getting it for him," Eric finished, stepping aside to let Speed out the door. When Speed didn't move, he hinted, "I'll see you later, Speed." Speed gave him a weird look before realizing Eric wanted to be left alone with Ryan. He wiggled his eye-brows at Eric before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

Ryan dropped onto the bench between the two rows of lockers, looking around him edgily. Eric glanced around too, looking for whatever had Ryan on edge. He couldn't see anything, only some overflowing bags, a few old cups, a misplaced shirt, but not much else. Ryan, however, was glaring at them as if it had been them who'd tried to dent his face with a crowbar.

As Eric walked over to the last locker, banged it with his fist, and ducked when it suddenly sprang open, he noticed that each time Ryan thought his back was turned he'd pick something up. He threw away all the cups, folded the shirt, and put the name-tagged bags into their respective lockers. Eric decided to stop him when he began to edge in a would-be casual way toward the mop closet.

Grabbing some Neosporin, a couple large bandages, and some gauze, he walked back over to Ryan and dumped it next to him on the bench.

"Thanks," Ryan muttered, uncapping the ointment, and rubbing it into the open cut on his face. Just then Eric remembered that Speed had said that he'd been hit multiple times by Freud. So where were-?

Eric's breath hitched slightly as Ryan stood and pulled off his Patrol shirt, folding it and setting it down neatly next to him. The Cuban's eyes slid hungrily over Ryan's small, lean body, drinking in the sight of all that pale, smooth flesh. Then his eyes hardened as Ryan turned and he saw that the creamy skin color on his back was interrupted by several long, open cuts, still weeping fluids and heavily bruised.

As Ryan reached around to put the ointment on his back, he hissed quietly as the skin was stretched and shifted, pulling the skin even further apart. Eric walked quietly over and pushed Ryan gently back down onto the bench, talking the neosporin, and walking around to straddle the bench next to him. When he sat down, he turned Ryan so that his back was facing him.

When Ryan began to protest and tried to get up, Eric calmy pulled him back down and waited for him to give up. Eventually, Ryan got the message and sat quietly, twitching uncertainly. Eric squirted the medicine onto his hands and rubbed it between his palms to warm it before carefully applying it to the angry cuts on Ryan's back. Ryan stiffened considerably, jumping each time Eric moved his hands, but after the second cut was bandaged, he relaxed into Eric's touch.

When the last cut was bandaged, Eric's hands glided up to his shoulders and gently kneaded at the knotted muscle. Ryan let out a quiet moan and leaned into Eric, leaning his head back to rest on the Cuban's shoulder. Eric leaned down and brushed his lips against the hollow of Ryan's throat, and his hands stopped massaging, instead, pulling Ryan closer to him, intoxicated by the smell and taste of the younger man.

The sound of the locker room door opening broke the heated silence, and Ryan jumped, scrambling to get out of Eric's lap. He was pulling on his shirt as Calleigh walked around the corner, saying, "Well, he didn't hold out very long, but we got a confession. It wasn't nearly as fun as I thought it would be so-" she stopped at the angry glare Eric was giving her, and the flushed, now-messy state of Ryan's hair and clothes. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes."

"No!"

Ryan and Eric glanced at each other before Ryan looked at his shoes, blushing heavily.

"I need to get back to my boss to report. Thanks for the medicine. See you!" Ryan bolted. Eric watched him go, frustrated. He'd been so close...

"Did you get his statement then?" asked Calleigh. Eric stared at her grinning.

"No, I didn't. I guess I'll have to bring him back tomorrow.

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**Yay, the end of the first chapter! please review! Ciao.**


	2. Chapter 2

**hey everyone! thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and/or alerted this story. I'm glad you guys seem to like it! Thnx for giving this fic a chance! Let the story begin!**

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 2**

Eric grumbled angrily under his breath as he attempted to match the carpet fibers to one of the carpet samples he'd colleclted. So far, all he'd been able to prove was that their suspect had entered the hotel lobby the night of the crime, but not that he'd gone any further. The body was found in a room ten stories up.

He leaned back down over the microscope to glare at it for making him work overtime.

"How's it coming?" Eric jumped violently, jerking his head up and immediately colliding it with Calleigh's.

"Shit," Calleigh muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

"Oops, sorry Cal. You scared me." He gave her an appologetic grin as she glared at him over a slightly swollen nose.

"I just thought you'd want to know Ryan Wolfe is here, and he's pissed at hell. Whatever you did, I'm gonna go to my office where I can watch the explosion from a safe distance." She made for the door and motioned to someone out in the hall. Ryan walked, no, _stalked_ past her, like a cat with his eyes on the kill. A white box was also in his arms, which he slammed down on the lab table before gliding over to Eric with a look that made Eric grateful that looks couldn't kill.

He came close enough to Eric that their chests were touching, almost nose-to-nose. The Cuban could feel Ryan's heartbeat and stifled a quiet groan at his close proximity. Then Ryan spoke, distracting him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he hissed. Eric blinked, not expecting this greeting.

"About what?"

"When you suggested my transfer from Patrol? I was told to clean out my locker and pick up a CSI parking pass! _What the hell have you done?_" Eric had a difficult time swallowing. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction.

Now what?

"Weren't you serious back at the gym?" he asked, feeling sick. He probably shouldn't have acted so spontaneously. Shit, shit, shit.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't mean this week! You don't just transfer someone based on a comment they make in passing, especially when you've only known them a few hours! And I know it was you, so don't try and lie your way out of it."

"I don't know what you're so worked up about. You wanted the transfer, I got it for you. And I didn't just do it on a whim, I talked to your boss, he said you'd already filled out a form for one and he was waiting to submit it. I just speeded up the process a little." Ryan stared at him for a minute as if he was doubting his sanity.

"I am sincerely starting to doubt your sanity... and your sense of ethics. You're supposed to get a job based on objective opinion and qualification, _not_ because you had an inside 'friend' who bribed his boss. I can't believe-" Eric stemmed the flow of words with his hand.

"You think I bribed the boss to let you in?" he demanded indignantly. "You're being ridiculous. Yes, I went and asked your boss about a transfer sheet, put it into a file folder, and put it on my boss's desk. With about twently others. The Trace lab is looking for someone to replace one of the rookies. He got fired, the fifth one to fill that position. I'm hopin' you can break the curse."

Watching Ryan struggle to remain angry while trying to find some even ground was worth the heart attack that had almost occured. Finally, he resigned to the fact that Eric had actually helped, not hindered. They both jumped as Calleigh bounded into the room, closely followed by Speed.

"I could hear through the glass. Speed already knew. So you're joinin' the team, huh? I can't wait for you to meet Horatio. Have you done an interview yet?" Calleigh asked, giving Ryan a wild grin, causing him to take a few steps back.

"Erm, no, that's why I came. He wanted to meet me before I was officially hired. Um, what department are you in?" he asked, trying to remain polite and not run away screaming at her answer.

"Weapons. You know, guns, bullets, that sort of thing. Are you okay, you look kinda sick?" Speed laughed.

"I think he's debating whether or not to quit. I would," he commented, doging the blow Calleigh aimed at him. "What time's your meeting?"

"Two o'clock. Where's the leiutenant's office?" Ryan asked, looking around at Eric.

"Come on, it's near the back." Deciding the party was over, Speed and Calleigh trooped away, and Eric started to lead Ryan back out the door. Ryan, however, was staring down at the evidence on the table.

"What?" Ryan looked up at him.

"Why are these labeled carpet fibers?" he asked, staring at the small hairs in the microscope. Eric raised an eyebrow.

"Because they're carpet fibers. Why?"

"Because they're not. Carpets are made of thick cloth, well, wool really. These fibers are thin, machine made, like what you'd find off a shirt. Probably cotton. You can tell because they're woven, not twisted together." Ryan looked over the microscope to see Eric staring at him as if he'd grown another head.

"Sorry," he said hurridly. "I didn't mean to butt in. I'll go find the leiutenant's office." He scurried past Eric, shoulders slightly hunched. Eric caught him by the back of the shirt collar and dragged him back over to the microscope to stare at it himself. Now that he was looking for it, the difference seemed much more obvious. He returned his gaze to Ryan who looked appologetic.

"I seriously think I'm in love with you," he commented, marveling at all the overtime Ryan had just saved him. Ryan flushed, eyes wide.

"_What?_"

"You just saved me another few hours of staring at carpet fibers. You are never leaving this lab again," he stated, pushing Ryan back out the door and towards Horatio's office. If you don't get hired, I'll set Calleigh on Horatio untill he agrees."

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Horatio Cane watched with raised eyebrows as Eric led a skinny, brown-haired man down the hall towards his office. So, this was Ryan Wolfe? He was chatting hesitantly with Eric, who seemed very intent on their conversation, even waving off Natalia when she came up to him. Interesting.

He pretended not to notice them until Eric tapped on the glass door of his office. He looked up from Ryan Wolfe's file and nodded. Eric gave Ryan a quick prod and pushed him in. He gave the younger man a fleeting thumbs up before walking away. Ryan himself turned to face Horatio, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders.

"Leiutenant Caine, I'm Ryan Wolfe. I'm here for a job interview," he said in a quiet voice that managed to sound calm. Horatio motioned to the chair in front of his desk, observing Ryan as he sat down and met Horatio's firm gaze. Glancing back down at his file, Horatio asked, "Mr. Wolfe, you recently completed a Master's degree in Chemistry, am I correct?"

Ryan nodded. Horatio continued, "I also have your medical records here," he paused as Ryan stiffined, his mouth becoming a hard line.

"I see." Horatio's lips twitched slightly.

"It says here you have a very mild case of OCD. You are aware that crime scene's can be very... messy, are you not?" he asked, wondering if this kid knew what he was getting into.

"Yes, I've seen quite a few things during my time on patrol, so I'm well aware. I wanted to join the lab to be part of the follow up. Just walking away from a dead mother whenever the CSI's arrive feels like... abandonment. I want to help bring closure to their families." Horatio nodded, his interest increasing. He'd found Wolfe's resume on his desk a few days ago with a note from Eric saying that he'd found another applicant. So Horatio talked to his supervisor, his co-workers, even some of the people who'd met Ryan Wolfe while he was on the job. They all said the same thing: efficienct, polite, intelligent. He'd gotten very good reccomendations, and had a better education than any of the others. By the end of their interview, Horatio was sure that Ryan Wolfe would do very well as one of his CSIs.

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Ryan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he stared at his shocked expression in the bathroom mirror. He'd gotten the job. The job he'd been preping for ever since he started his Chemistry degree for years ago. He didn't move until the bathroom door swung open and Calleigh bounced in.

"Hey! This is the men's bathroom!" he reminded her. She responded with a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"I know. Horatio just told us that you're officially part of the team, so I wanted to say congrats before I leave. I'll see ya tomorrow!" With a wave, she turned and walked back out of the bathroom, almost knocking over Eric on his way in. He frowned slightly, but didn't say anything to her as she waltzed past, instead turning to Ryan.

"Hey, man, we just got the news!" Eric walked over and clapped Ryan on the back. "We need to celebrate!" he decided, leading a confused Ryan out of the bathroom and into the lockers. "Ya know, hit a bar or something. There's that place down by the beach... anyways, you up for it? Thanks to you I have a lot more free time than I thought I would." Ryan though for a moment than shrugged.

"Sure. Let's go."

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**Okay, end of second chappie. sorry its not as long as the first, but i wasn't really sure what to have happen in the interview. please R&R!!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Omigod, I just finally downloaded the thing that this site has had up for ages, and it actually has SPELL CHECKING!! now I am unstoppable! Anywho, sorry it took so long to update, I wasn't really sure where I was going to go with their 'celebration' thing, but then I had an epiphany the other night, and I'm bringing in some OC s to join the plot: Ryan's mother and sister: da da dum! Also, huge uber-thanks to everyone who reviewed! The counter just hit ten! **

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 2**

**Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko **

Ryan shifted slightly in his seat, occasionally glancing at his reflection in the review mirror. He was following Eric to a local cafe who boasted the world's best chicken sandwich. His stomach flipped nervously as he parked his beat-up Mustang next to Eric's CSI Hummer, winching as his back protested against climbing out of the car. He slammed the door, locked the car, and met Eric on the sidewalk. The Cuban had his thumbs hooked on the back pocket of his jeans and was grinning.

"Welcome to the best restaurant you will ever dine at," he informed, leading Ryan through the brink building's glass doors and into what appeared to be a diner. The floor was black and white-checkerboard linoleum, with large booths on one side and a long, yellow counter on the other, complete with stools. Two men were sitting at the counter, one with a cup of coffee, the other a beer. A mother with five kids in tow was trying to get them all seated in one booth while the father ordered at the register. A squat woman with dyed blond hair and heavy eye-liner worked the machine. Ryan started towards on of the red pleather booths, but Eric grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back, shaking his head.

"Wha...?"

"We're going upstairs. I usually come here on slow nights during break. It helps me clear my head. Besides, it's got a great view," Eric added, walking past the counter with a wave to the cashier, and through a black door in the corner, Ryan following close behind. They walked up a narrow, unlit staircase and emerged in a small room about the size of a broom closet. Eric twisted the knob of another door, kicked one of the corners, and it sprang open. He stepped aside and let Ryan through first. 

For a minute, Ryan wasn't sure where he was. All he could see was the ocean stretched in front of him for miles and a full moon hovering over it. The reflection was only disturbed by sea creatures as they hunted for their dinner as well. A few iron-wrought tables and chairs were set up at random around the flat rooftop, and it was one of these that Eric led him over to. As the dropped into their seats, Ryan noticed Eric seemed to be casting around for something to say. Ryan decided to save him the trouble.

"So, how did you find this place? It's a little... I dunno, obscure? Did you just happen upon it?" Eric laughed, his head tilting back slightly.

"You could say that. Have you ever been air gliding?" Ryan shook his head, confused at the sudden change of topic.

"Well, I'd decided a few months ago that I was going to try. In the ten minutes I was up there, I managed to get my pants hooked onto the bar, accidentally jam one of the ropes that helped me steer, and fly way off path. I found this place when I accidentally crashed into it. I had to pay the waitress downstairs almost two grand to repair the hole in the wall. Once she was sure I was actually going to repay her, she was quite forgiving about the whole thing," Eric added conversationally. 

Ryan sat there for a moment trying to picture what it must have been like to have Eric suddenly swooping down on a hand glider and plowing a hole in your wall. The scenario made him grin. 

"Just out of curiosity, have you ever tried water skiing?" Ryan asked, expecting the nod that followed. "Is it hard?" 

"Nah. You just gotta find your balance. You live in Miami and you've never been water skiing?" he asked incredulously. 

"I have watched one too many people run into other boats to be interested..."

And so it continued, eventually progressing from embarrassing sports accidents to childhood stories. It was when Ryan was telling Eric about the time he'd super-glued his shoes to the ceiling that his cell-phone vibrated. Glancing at the screen, he frowned. It was Rico. He smiled apologetically at Eric, and opened it.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, dude, it's Rico." said a deep voice on the line. The connection was bad, and the crackling made it hard to hear.

"What's up? Aren't you supposed to be in Chili or something?"

"Yeah, I'm there. I just wanted to warn- I mean, tell you that I think your mom's comin'."

"What? _Why_?"

"I dunno, man, but she called asking if she could stay in my house for a week or so while I was away. I said she could, but she wouldn't answer when I asked why she was coming down to Miami. I thought she hated the heat." 

"She does. Do you know when she's getting here? I can't let her stay at your place. It's in the ghetto for god's sake."

"Yeah, um, her flight lands at ten, I think it was 307? Just ask some guy in a suit, they'll know. I gotta go, this call is really costing me."

"Alright, thanks Rico. Talk to ya later." Ryan hung up, trying desperately to quench the anger that was building at his mother. Glancing at his watch, he swore.

9:30

Fuck. 

"What's up?" Ryan jumped, looking back up at Eric. His voice was rather frosty, and Ryan immediately felt guilty at putting him on hold. 

"Sorry. It was my friend Rico, calling from Chili," he answered, smiling slightly when Eric relaxed at the word 'friend'. "He just told me my mom's flying in from Pittsburgh to visit." Eric raised an eye brow.

"Why was he telling you? Didn't she call?" Ryan rolled his eyes. 

"No. She's forever trying to catch me off my guard and prove that I'm the disappointment she's decided I am. She was really pissed when my Uncle Ron kept talking to me when I moved here. He was supposed to make my life a living hell. Instead he recommended the most local porn store," Ryan explained with a snort. "No doubt she brought my sister with her. I'm gonna have to go pick them up at the airport.

"You're going to let them stay with you?" asked Eric, looking confused. He was frowning and scratching his chin. 

"Nah. I'm gonna pack a bag and stay in a hotel. We'd tear each other apart by the time we reach the front door, and if I told them to get a room, I'd get the never-ending lecture on male courtesy. It's not worth the trouble. Rico offered to let them stay in his house, but it's in the middle of the ghetto, and my sister is bound to get herself into trouble."

"I'll come with you." Ryan choked slightly as Eric stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

"You really don't need to do that," he began, stomach twisting at the thought of Eric's reaction when he met Ryan's family. "Trust me, they aren't very... social," he said, trying to find a polite word that wasn't _psychopathic_ or _slutty_. It was very difficult. Eric laughed at the stricken look on Ryan's face. 

"I'm sure they can't be that bad."

-o0o-

It wasn't until later that Eric realized how he'd been. Upon arriving at the airport, they set off in search of the arrival gate. It was then they realized that most of the signs were in Spanish, and another fifteen minutes before Eric finally realized he's been confusing the Spanish word _right_ with _left_. In the end, one of the desk attendants took pity on them and directed them to gate 307. People were already pouring off the plane and into the large seating area. If Ryan hadn't made a strangled noise in his throat, Eric never would have guessed that the two women were even related to the smaller man.

The older one was tall, had dyed-blond hair, and black heels on. Her face was severe, and as she removed her sunglasses, her flat brown eyes only served to lend her a standoffish attitude as they surveyed her surroundings with distaste. Reaching into her black purse, she pulled out a cellphone with one hand and pressing out any creases in her matching suit with the other. After dialing a number, she held the phone to her ear and turned to wait for the other woman who was walking towards her. 

Ryan's sister was the exact opposite of what he'd expected. While Ryan was more reserved and friendly, she made every attempt to catch the attention of others. Her clothes... Eric couldn't think of a polite was to describe them. She was wearing black leather shorts and boots that came halfway up her thigh. The waistband of her shorts were low enough to reveal the red straps of a thong, which she fingered idly. Her white shirt was doing a poor job of hiding the strappy lingerie beneath it.

Ryan jumped as his phone suddenly beeped. He ignored it, instead walking over to his mother and sister. Eric followed silently behind him, wincing as Ryan clenched his fists hard enough to cut into his palms with his nails. 

"Well, this is an... unexpected surprised," commented Ryan casually. The two women jumped, whipping around to face him. 

"Ryan!" gasped his mother. Her voice was high and girlish, and Eric hated her immediately. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you that exact same thing. Mind telling me why you were planning to stay in Rico's house, of all places, instead of just calling and asking for me to put you up?" Ryan asked, still in a would-be casual voice. 

"Because we knew you wouldn't do it!" snapped another voice. It was Ryan's sister. She was glaring at him from under lids so heavily lined with makeup, Eric was surprised she could even hold them up. 

"Monica. You haven't changed at all, I see. How's... was it Jon?" 

"I dumped him. Which you'd know if you stopped wasting your time _here_ and came back home. Father's still pissed at you, ya know."

_Father? _ Eric found it strangely formal for someone like Ryan.

"That's expected, and I'm not surprised. Why'd you dump this one? Wasn't he the one who owned that island in the Carribean?" 

"He was boring," Monica snapped haughtily, swinging her wavy, long, dirty-blond hair over her shoulder. Eric was beginning to see why Ryan had said his sister would get herself into trouble. If he'd seen her anywhere else, he'd have guessed 20 (1). Suddenly her eyes lit up hungrily as she noticed Eric. "Who's this?" 

"Knock it off, Monica," Ryan bit out angrily, shifting slightly to step between Eric and his sister. 

"Both of you stop it," commanded Mrs. Wolfe, sniffing. "Well, now that you're here Ryan, you know that we require someplace to stay. And I absolutely refuse one of those whore-houses you call hotels in this city." Eric gaped slightly at her, feeling indignant on Ryan's behalf. These people just appeared without warning and expect _Ryan_ to find them somewhere to stay and _pay_ for it? What the hell was this? He started to say something, then hissed when Ryan discreetly stomped on his toe. Mrs. Wolfe chose then to notice him.

"Who are you?" she demanded stiffly, eying Eric coldly and adjust her purse. 

"Eric Delko. I work with Ryan at the Crime Lab," he informed her, annoyed at how she snorted slightly when he mentioned his job. 

"Oh. You're one of those men," she breathed disdainfully, turning away.

"One of those men..?" Eric started, but Ryan elbowed him gently.

"Just ignore it. They're like that to everyone unless you own a Porsche. It's just their lifestyle." With a sigh, Ryan followed after his sister and mother to the baggage claim. None of them spoke to each other as Ryan loaded their bags into his car unless it was his mother complaining about the vehicle. Once the two were settle in the car, Ryan turned to Eric, looking tired. 

"I'm really sorry about them. I'd say that it's just jet lag, but I'd be lying," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, which stood on end for a moment before flattening in the breeze. 

"Where're you going to stay while they're... visiting? If you're not going to stay at your place," Eric asked.

"Probably at the motel down the street," Ryan grumbled, stretching with a groan. "I don't have the cash right now for anywhere more expensive. Besides, I doubt they'll stay too long. Their longest visit was a month, and that was before we read my grandfather's will. I got disinherited that same day, so we haven't really been on the best of terms... well, we're even worse off now then we were before." 

"They disinherited you?" 

"Yeah. My dad finally got fed up with paying for college when I wasn't even studying to take over his business, so he didn't see the point in supporting me when I wasn't going to add anything to the family. It happens." Eric sincerely doubted it, but let his comment go unspoken.

"So you're gonna be out of the house for a month?" 

"Yep."

"And you're gonna stay in a motel?"

"Yep."

Eric decided to offer an alternative at the idea of Ryan sleeping some ghetto motel while his sister and mother rifled through his house and emptied his pockets. 

"Ya know, if you wanted you could kip at my place. I have an extra room with a bathroom, and we could split the rent..." Eric trailed off at the disbelieving look on Ryan's face, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze. No wonder Horatio had liked him. 

"Are you serious? You wouldn't mind sharing your house with someone you've known for about three weeks?" Eric shrugged.

"It just seems kinda stupid for you to live out of a motel when I've got extra space. Besides, I'm banking on the hope that you can cook a little better than I can. I was getting tired of microwave pancakes." 

-o0o-

Eric waited in the Hummer as Ryan led his family inside the house and dropped their bags on the sofa. He waited for them to run out of comments on the shabbiness of the rooms and the lack of a pool in the yard before asking them the question they'd avoided at the airport.

"Why are you two here?" His mother stopped the tutting noises she was making at the lack of photos on the walls and turned to face him. 

"We came to take you home. You're father is retiring. He's leaving the company to you, and we're taking you home so that you can manage it," she informed him, crossing her arms as a wry smile twisted Ryan's mouth.

"I think you're forgetting that he disinherited me. And that I'm not some child you can drag where you want. I have a job and a life here, and if you think I'm leaving it for that hellhole you two call home, you're dead wrong." 

"Do not insult your family. You're lucky that your father is being so forgiving, he's giving you a business empire. You wouldn't have to live in this... squalor anymore. You can move back to the family seat-"

"Do you know how ridiculous you sound?" Ryan snapped. "The 'family seat' is nothing more than one of the houses father bought out of boredom and kept for revenue. Lucky my ass. He must've been pissed when Monica dumped that Jon guy. Wasn't he supposed to be head of the company instead? Is it that he's run out of options?" 

A stinging slap cut him off. He staggered slightly, staring at his mother as she lowered him arms, trembling in anger.

"Don't you dare talk of your father with such disrespect. He is the reason you have an education, a future. You have no right." Ryan touched his cheek gingerly with his fingers, wincing as he felt the deeps cuts his mother's rings had left. Dropping his hand back to his waist, Ryan gave into the urge to release the pent up anger that had been building. 

"I have every right. Your husband is nothing more than a money-hungry business tycoon who's only concern is ensuring his bank account will remain full. Don't you dare give me that shit about being grateful. Monica and I are only tools for him. The difference between us is that Monica lets herself be used to add to the family fortune." Ryan stopped as his mother's face turned a nasty shade of purple. He could see that there was absolutely no point in continuing this. An irrational fear that his mother could actually force him back into the clutches of his father was gripping him, and he knew that it was stupid. There was nothing they could do, and hell would freeze over before he went there of his own free will. 

Turning, he stormed back to his room and packed a bag, finding some peace in the neatness of his room. He locked the doors to his personal bathroom, his closet, and desk drawers before leaving, also passwording his computer. It was better not to take chances. 

He brushed past his mother and sister without a word to either of them, shutting the door firmly behind him. He paused for a minute relax in the warm Miami heat and take comfort in the concerned look on Eric's face as he peered at him from the Hummer. Ryan stood up from leaning against his front door and jogged to the car. Climbing in, he threw his bag in the back, not meeting Eric's gaze as he buckled his seatbelt.

"What happened to your face?" For a minute, Ryan was insulted at the childish insult before he remembered the scratches. He rubbed his hand over them before running it through his hair.

"Family disagreement."

-o0o-

**20 **a twenty dollar whore

**yay! End of chapter three! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed or favorited or anything, and sorry it took so long to post this. Writer's block can be a bitch. -.-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everyone! First, I want to thank you all for the luuurrverly reviews. I especially like the one about the 'penny whore' from **Completely Random Dissorder**. I have to say that I agree (; heh heh. Also, _SHOUT OUT TO EVERYONE FROM PITTSBURGH!! _**

** I live there!! go steelers! Anywho, hope you like this next chappie! I think it's the longest yet.**

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 4**

**Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko **

Ryan released a groan he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he collapsed onto the guest bed. After giving him a 'tour' of the house which hadn't lasted more then five minutes, Eric had pounced on the phone book and declared he was ordering take-out for now since he didn't have enough ingredients in the kitchen to make anything else. While he tried to dictate his order to a man with a heavy Chinese accent, Ryan had showered and unpacked, putting his things in the empty closet across from the bed. 

The doorbell rang, and Ryan lay there for a minute, listening to the deep rumble of Eric's voice through the wall as he argued about the sudden nine dollar increase to the price. A minute later, he padded down the hall and stuck his head around Ryan's door. 

"I just got ripped off by someone who didn't even speak English," he grumbled, sounding slightly disbelieving. Dropping down on the bed next to him, Eric tossed Ryan a fork and offered a carton of rice as he popped open the styrofoam containers. Ryan sat up and accepted the rice, folding his legs under him as he did so. Eric kicked off his shoes and settled himself cross-legged on the bed so that they were facing each other.

"So, what's with your family?" he asked bluntly. Ryan grinned, glad that Eric wasn't going to bother with dancing around what many labeled a 'sensitive' subject. 

Sensitive his ass.

"I don't like them and they don't like me. That pretty much sums it up," Ryan replied, stabbing rather viciously at a piece of chicken. "I was supposed to become head of my dad's company after college, and I refused. He didn't take it so well and threw me out." Eric thought that over, chewing on a green bean. 

"So, it's like your dad's jewelry store or something?" he asked. Ryan's mother and sister seemed just a bit more... expensive for what a hardware store owner could provide for. Ryan, for some reason, found it funny.

"Sort of. It's a little bigger than that, but it all amounts to the same thing. After a while, they just decided that it would be easier if they made the decisions for me and didn't even bother to ask. Did you know they filled out all my college application forms without me knowing? Once I was accepted, they chose my course schedule and sent it in. I didn't even know I'd been accepted at a college until they told me about three weeks before I was supposed to leave."

"...What the fuck?" demanded Eric. Ryan let out a short laugh.

"That's exactly what I was like. So, I went to the counselor, said there had been a mistake with my schedule and that none of the classes were what I signed up for. I still kinda feel bad about lying to her. She felt so sorry that I'd almost attended the wrong majors. So I decided all my classes with her. My parents found out in my second year." Eric whistled as Ryan paused to swallow more chicken and rice. 

"So they disinherited you?" 

"Nah, they just stopped paying the tuition. It wasn't so bad, because then they didn't have any reason to contact me. So they didn't, which was a relief by itself. They disinherited me because a year after I came of age and accessed the account my grandfather had left me, I announced that I was socially, and possibly legally, emancipating myself from the family. That was when they were reading his will. I'd always liked my grandpa. He was everything my father wasn't, and he'd left me a decent amount, which my father expected me to turn over to the family. Instead, he found out that his only male child was legally separating himself from him. The look on his face was priceless... but so was the vase he threw at me when I told him." 

"He threw a vase at you? At the reading of his father's will?" Eric asked, feeling rather shocked. "Did he have anger issues or something?" Ryan shrugged, offering Eric the last piece of chicken, which he accepted. 

"Probably. But it was just some vase he'd probably imported illegally anyways so... and besides, I got the stitches and it was done with. I hadn't seen any of them since until today.

"_Stitches_?"

"Well, yeah. You didn't think it just bounced of my face did you? Look." Ryan lifted the front of his t-shirt to show Eric the faint criss-cross white scars across his chest. "Stung like a bitch when it shattered though. So we went our separate ways," he finished with a shrug, dropping his shirt and picking up the empty containers. Eric followed him into the kitchen, watching the sway of Ryan's hair as he glided down the hallway, stumbling every once in a while over his too-long sweatpants. 

"So, that's it?" he finally asked. "You guys never spoke again?"

"Nope. Didn't really have a reason to. And why put lemon juice in a cut?" Ryan said, dumping the containers in the trash under the sink and starting to wash the silverware. Eric walked over to stand beside him, drying as Ryan passed it to him. "So, enough about my family. What about yours?" 

Eric though for a moment, slightly wrong-footed at the sudden change of subject. "Well, my mother was Cuban. She met my father while he was visiting from Russia on some kinda business trip. He invited her to come back to Russia with him, and she agreed. The village she lived in was poor, and she wanted out. So, they went back, got married, and moved here a few years later because she said she missed the warmth. She hated the snow that Russia got every winter. They had to pull some strings, but they managed." Eric leaned against the counter as Ryan finished putting away the silverware. 

"So, they moved here and had you?" he asked, watching as Eric winced slightly.

"No, they had my older sister Marisol first. I came a few years later." Ryan seemed to sense this was a sensitive subject for Eric and quickly changed topics. 

"So, they live in Miami now?" Eric lunged at the chance to avoid explaining Marisol to Ryan.

"Yeah, they live in one of those cottage thingies near the beach. I go visit them every few months to check on them and make sure my dad remembers that it's not recommended that he try to raise goats in the back yard **(1)**. Old habits die hard," Eric added at the incredulous look on Ryan's face. 

"Your dad tries to raise goats in the back yard?"

"Yeah. I guess neither of our families is exactly normal..." 

-o0o-

Ryan reclined against the wall of his room, listening to the pounding of water as Eric showered. It was weird how easy it was to explain to Eric about his family, but Ryan decided it didn't matter. It was nice to get it off his chest, refreshing to know that there was definitely someone else who hated his family's guts almost as much as he did himself. 

Looking contentedly around the room Eric had given him, Ryan's look-over halted as he noticed the crooked curtain rod above the window. Deciding to ignore it, he turned to find his beeper.

And glanced over his shoulder at it. Swearing to himself, he turned resolutely away from it and marched out the door.

Only to march back in again. Giving in to the inevitable, he walked over to it, and balanced on tip-toe as he tried to reach and push it back into its holder. His fingertips managed to brush the metal, but he didn't succeed in straightening it. He lower to the balls heel of his feet than rocked back up onto the balls of his feet, reaching for the rod... and missed. Again.

When he rolled back down onto this feet for the third time, he leaned into a hard, warm body behind him. Eric reached over his head and effortlessly pushed the rod back into place. His chest pressed against Ryan's back as he did so, and Ryan could feel Eric's chin brush his jawline as he pulled his hand back. 

Ryan turned to face Eric, who was standing there wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants like Ryan's... and nothing else. Ryan, to his horror, felt his face heat as he stared at his chest and abs. Damn... 

Eric cleared his throat, trying not to laugh as Ryan's face continued to redden before he looked away, refusing to look at Eric at all. 

"Sorry. It was bothering me." It took a minute before Eric realized Ryan was talking about the curtain rod. He shrugged, and Ryan shifted nervously as the movement rubbed Eric's chest against his. Eric moved back as a distant beeping announced that he was being called. He walked into his bedroom and glanced at the name: Calleigh Dusquene **(2)**. With a sigh, he answered. 

"Delko." 

"Eric! Where the hell have you been for the last two hours? I've a been callin' you every fifteen minutes," she hissed, starting to slip into her southern accent. Eric gulped. She was really pissed.

"What are you talking about? My shift is over, didn't you check the sign-out sheet?"

"Yes, I _know_ your shift is over, but I figured you'd want to know that your case is about to be snatched up by the feds."

"_What_?" Eric demanded, firing up at once.

"Exactly. They think he might have killed some undercover agent, and the sonuvabitches trying to get jurisdiction on it. Horatio's talking with them now."

"Alright, I'll be there in-" he started, standing up to find a shirt, but Calleigh cut him off.

"Don't bother. There's really nothing you can do right now anyways. I'll call if something changes. But just out of curiosity... where _have_ you been that you weren't answering your beeper?" 

"Erm... eating dinner," he said in an attempt at sounding casual. He could almost picture Calleigh's eyebrows raising.

"And you were so hungry you just couldn't bear to put your burger down and answer your phone?"

"Well, I kinda got distracted, and I left my phone in the car."

"Distracted?"

"Yeah."

"By what?" 

"Erm..." As Eric tried to come up with a good lie, he wandered over to lean in Ryan's doorway. His new roommate was laying sprawled across the quilt, face pressed into the pillows and mouth hanging open slightly. His gray shirt was starting to ride up, leaving most of his abdomen exposed. "Um, the view."

-o0o-

Swearing colorfully by using a few words in Spanish he'd picked up off Eric, Ryan rubbed his dry eyes as the computer continued to process the fingerprint and make comparisons. If he didn't get the hell out of this glass box, he was going to go stir-crazy. Collapsing back against his swivel chair, Ryan let his head loll back, closing his eyes and trying to will away the itchiness that almost thirty hours of staring at a computer had brought. 

"You look like shit." Ryan jumped, accidentally slamming his head against a black filing cabinet, he turned to see Calleigh eying him critically from the doorway. He offered her a weak smile. 

"I feel like it too. Is that coffee?" She handed him one of the steaming paper cups she was holding and patting him on the shoulder.

"I came to yell at you for not signing out properly. You know you have to write down what time you leave too?" Ryan frowned at her. He'd been here four weeks, he knew how to sign in and out. 

"I know. When did I forget?" he asked, searching his memory and coming up blank. 

"A few hours ago. Your last sign in was more than a day ago." 

"Oh. Is that all?" Ryan asked, relaxing again and turning back to the computer, content to feel the warmth of the coffee seep into his palms. 

"Whaddya mean, is that all?" Calleigh demanded, nudging him with her elbow. He swiveled back around to face her, smiling slightly. 

"My name isn't there because I haven't signed out yet, Cal," he informed her, stretching and wincing as something in his back popped. The computer beeped and he turned to type in another access code, something he had to do every couple of minutes. If they computer had just been searching, he could've gone home and slept. But no, you needed an access key to getting into each separate file, and this case was on rush. Calleigh was silent for so long that Ryan thought she'd left, and therefor almost had a coronary when she suddenly exploded.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN'T SIGNED OUT YET?" she screeched. Ryan jumped violently, narrowly missing the keyboard as his coffee sloshed everywhere. 

"Dammit, Cal-" he started, but was suddenly being yanked out of his chair and having his coffee liberated from his hand as she dragged him down the hallway. He made an attempt to wrestle his arm free, but couldn't summon the energy, which only served to piss her off more. Other lab techs were turning to look out the glass walls to watch as one of their head CSIs dragged her newest co-worker down the hall and into the break room, where she preceded to shout so much that the others were glad the glass walls were soundproof... for the most part. 

After a few minutes, the building sighed its relief as the shouting stopped and Calleigh strode away to the front counter, only to return, sign-in clipboard clutch in her hand, to resume shouting.

The noise brought both Eric and Speed running, and they dashed into the break room to find a partially-unconscious Ryan slumped into a chair while Calleigh towered over him, absolutely livid.

"-STUPIDEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD! YOU'RE HALF UNCONCIOUS-"

"It was a rush case," Ryan protested weakly. "I have to stay and decode the security, and I don't know anyone else who knows how! Horatio said he wanted them a soon as possible."

"That DOESN'T mean you're supposed to work yourself into the ground to do it! What good are you to anyone if you can't even stay awake long enough to report?" Calleigh snarled back at him. "If Alexx-"

Ryan bolted up, now fully awake. "Please don't tell Alexx," he begged. "She'd kill me-" As Calleigh opened her mouth to retort, Eric stepped in, Speed close behind.

"I have a wonderful idea! Let's talk like civilized beings instead of wild animals! Doesn't that sound like fun boys and girls?" asked Speed, hovering by Calleigh's elbow, which was a mistake as she used it to elbow him in the gut. 

"Don't give me that. He deserves it," she hissed, turning her glare back to Ryan, who cowered. Eric was looking Ryan over, frowning. There were bags under his eyes that hadn't been there before Eric had left on a conference. 

"What the hell is going on?" Speed demanded, rubbing a forearm over his abused stomach. 

"I came to ask Ryan why he didn't sign out when he left yesterday, because I saw his sign in at 8:00 _yesterday morning_-" 

"It was important! I-"

"SHUT UP! And he told me that was because he hasn't signed out yet. So then, I went to the front desk to get the clipboard to show him, I noticed that he has been pulling shifts like this for the past three days! He leaves for four hours at the most, then comes right back again. Look!" She thrust the clipboard under Eric and Speed's noses, and they read down the list. Eric's frown deepened as he saw how right Calleigh was. seventeen, twenty, twenty-four... he glanced down at his watch.

12:00 in the afternoon. So Ryan had been here decoding for almost twenty-eight hours. For the fourth day in a row. 

"Ryan," he asked slowly, looking at him from over the clipboard. Ryan turned bloodshot eyes to him. "Stand up for a minute." Ryan stared at him for a minute before hefting himself out of his chair. Eric passed the clipboard to Speed, who was still staring at it disbelievingly, and walked behind Ryan. Grabbing the back of his shirt, Eric gently pulled the fabric against Ryan's chest. Calleigh hissed. Ryan's ribs were standing in sharp relief against his skin. Realizing Eric's point, Ryan jerked his shirt out of the Cuban's grasp.

"When was the last time you've eaten?" Calleigh demanded. Ryan shrugged noncommittally.

"I've got a fast metabolism," he muttered. "Besides, a guy on night shift-" 

Eric sighed as Calleigh continued to rip into Ryan, now with Speed by her side. None of them had realized Ryan had been staying so long. They'd just thought he came in early and left later than usual. A gang uprising had kept them all busy, but this was... ridiculous. Alexx would have skinned Ryan if she knew what one of her 'babies' was doing to himself. Luckily for Ryan, she had today off, so Calleigh wouldn't get a chance to follow up on her threat.

Leaving Ryan to the non-existent mercy of Calleigh, he walked out of the break room and down a few hallways before stopping in front of Horatio's office. Knocking quietly, Eric waited for the quiet, "Come in," before pushing the door open. Horatio was sitting behind his desk, a long, _long_ list in his hand. He looked absolutely exhausted, but pleased. 

"What's up, H?" Eric asked as Horatio gave him a small smile.

"I just got of the phone with Frank. They made three arrests based on the decoded information Ryan got us. Two of them made a deal with the police and gave up the third," he answered, leaning forward in his chair and lacing his fingers on the desk, one of his more relaxed poses. "I think this is pretty much the end of this case." 

"Thank god," Eric grumbled. This gang uprising case had really been a bitch for everyone in the lab. One person in particular. "Speaking of that info, I wanted to ask you if maybe you could get Ryan some time off? Calleigh's in the break room right now castrating him for the shifts he's been pulling..."

Horatio's lips twitched slightly. He stood up and walked past Eric towards his team's break room, following the distant sounds of shouting. Eric followed behind his boss as Horatio pushed the door open and walked over to Calleigh. Tapping her on the shoulder, she jumped and turned. He muttered something to her in a low, reprimanding tone, and she replied with a hiss, shoving the clipboard at Horatio. 

Eric walked over to the couch and dropped down next to Ryan, who was curled up in the corner, staring at the spot Calleigh's head had been in with sleep-glazed eyes. Horatio turned to fix that penetrating gaze on Ryan, who didn't notice until Eric poked him in the side of the head. Looking around, he seemed surprised to find Horatio there at all.

"Oh, hey H. What's up?" Horatio lifted an eyebrow as Ryan grinned up at him. 

"Mr. Wolfe, I think it's time you took some time off. You look a little... out of it," he said, as Ryan started to stand and stumbled slightly. 

"Naaahhhh," Ryan drawled with a small giggle. "I'm fiiiinnee. Beside, _you_," he said, moving to give Horatio a poke in the chest and missing completely, "need those files decoded."

"No," said Horatio slowly as Eric stood and kept Ryan propped up as he swayed, "I need my team to be as sane as their mental situations permit them to be." His gaze flickered to Calleigh before continuing. "Eric, if you could... escort Mr. Wolfe home, I would appreciate it. You might as well take the time off too. I'll have that rookie from downstairs if I really need something. Ryan, I don't want to see you back here any sooner that two days." 

With that, Horatio retreated from the break room. Calleigh looked extremely pleased with herself, while Speed watched Eric half carry a giggling Ryan out the door after his boss.

"Sleep deprivation can be a scary thing." 

-o0o-

Eric breathed a sigh of relief as he parked the car in front of the house. Ryan was slumped over in the seat next to him, completely dead to the world. His forehead was pressed against the glass, and as Eric got out and opened his car door, he had to catch Ryan as he pitched forward out of the seat. Wrapping an arm around around Ryan's shoulder, Eric hauled him out of the car and managed to wake him enough that he could stumble up the walk and lean against the door while Eric unlocked it.

Hooking his finger in the collar of Ryan's shirt, Eric pushed the door open and held Ryan up as the support that was holding the brunette up disappeared. Ryan skipped past Eric and almost immediately ran into the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Following behind him, Eric put his hand on the small of Ryan's back and led him past the couch and down the hall into his bedroom.

Ryan moved to collapse on the bed, but Eric pulled him back into place. 

"You'll thank me later when you don't have to iron it," Eric told him as he unbuttoned Ryan's shirt and pulled it over his head. Ryan just watched him as he tossed the shirt into the corner. Eric pulled back the sheets and pushed Ryan into the bed, dropping them back over him. Ryan gave him a slow, content smile before dropping off. Eric walked back around the bed and picked up the discarded shirt. As he turned to drop it into the hamper, the phone rang, splitting the silence.

Scrambling over the bed, Eric reached over Ryan's still form and ripped the phone off the holder.

"Hello?" he asked, trying to keep his voice muted as Ryan shifted underneath his chest. 

"Well, it's about time somebody answered!" Eric stiffened at the high, girlish voice on the other end of the connection. "This is the eighth time I've called!"

"Hi, Mrs. Wolfe. No one was home, so-"

"It doesn't matter, you're home now. I want to talk to Ryan. Now, if you please!" she demanded, cutting across him. Eric almost slid off the other edge of the bed as Ryan pulled the sheets around himself, catching Eric's t-shirt as he did so.**(3) **

"Mrs. Wolfe, now really isn't a good time. Ryan's been working overtime and he's asleep right now," Eric answered, lowering his voice even more now that his face was only a foot away from Ryan's.

"Well, fine. Tell Ryan I'm going to need him to put another bank transaction through. When I went shopping today, the woman said the card was empty! I'm going to need it refilled, and tell him I'm going to need more that a couple hundreds! That barely covered my new shoes. Goodbye!" There was a small click, then silence. Eric stared at the receiver.

Ryan had given his mother a visa card with 1,000 dollars on it to cover grocery costs and any other necessities while his mother and sister were staying at his house. And the woman had emptied it on _shoe shopping_. Eric decided to tell Ryan when he was awake, and try to talk him into booting his relatives out. It was ridiculous that they had their own bank accounts, yet expected Ryan to take care of all their costs. 

Dropping the phone back into the hook, Eric worked on gently disentangling his shirt from Ryan's grip. With a suddenly yelp, Ryan shot up, immediately colliding heads with Eric, they both leaned away, swearing and clutching their foreheads. Ryan, still kneading his forehead with the heel of his hand looked blearily up at Eric.

"Whhassamattah?" he breathed, falling back against the pillows, pulling Eric down with him. Eric hit the bed with a thump as Ryan twisted around to face him, eyes shut, breathing starting to even out.

"Ryan, you need to-"

"Sshhhuuussshh," Ryan muttered, holding a slender finger to Eric's mouth. "Go ta sleep."

-o0o-

**(1) Goats in the back yard- **I actually knew a guy who tried to do that... it didn't last long though. The police came and took them away. True story.

**(2) Calleigh Dusquene- **I tried my best w/ the spelling... I'm pretty sure I got it, but please correct me if I'm wrong with any of the names.

**(3) scene description- **have you ever reached over someone in bed to grab something off a night stand? Well, picture that kind of scene with Eric reaching over Ryan to get the phone.

**yay, end of ch. 4! I hope I didn't rush things near the end... or make it too cheesy. I was looking back at the other two chapters and I realized that there was a bit more... attraction than in the third, so I tried to bring a bit more in. Pls review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone! First, let me thank you all for the woooonderful reviews! It does an author good to know that people enjoy her writing. Also, I'd like to add that requests and input are welcomed and encouraged! Sorry it took so long to get this update online as well. I had to unplug the computer for the carpet men -drool-**

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 5**

**Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko **

Shouting. Somewhere on the verges of consciousness, Ryan identified the distant noises as shouting. As he blinked slowly, he was able to classify it more particularly: swearing. Very creative swearing, all mixed in a stream of English, Spanish, and what sounded vaguely like Russian. His lips twitched as he sat up, running his hand through his hair as Eric's voice resonated through the walls from the living room.

"And if you think I'm gonna let you pull this kind of _bullshit_-" Ryan swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, trying to work out the crick in his neck as he did so. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

11:30 AM. So he'd been asleep for almost fourteen hours.

"-so you can just take that credit card and shove it straight up you ass!" There was a loud slam as Eric closed the front door. Ryan listened to him pad into the kitchen, muttering angrily, before standing. As he searched for a t-shirt is his closet, Ryan realized he had absolutely no memory of leaving the Lab. The last thing he remembered...

... was Calleigh towering over him, the air around her crackling with anger. Ryan shuddered. That scene was the stuff of nightmares. Yawning widely, he wandered down the hallway and into the living room. He could see Eric from the doorway, moving noisily around the kitchen.

Eric was wearing a pair of jeans and the new t-shirt he'd bought about two weeks after Ryan had moved in. It had a long phrase in Spanish on it, and every time the two of them went anywhere with him in it, people would read it and don the expression of one who was in on a really good joke. Ryan had yet to work out what it said.

Damn the online translators. When the translation had come up: "I like pickles with my luggage" Ryan had given up on them and had tried asking Calleigh. After reading it, she suddenly grinned and resolutely refused to tell him the meaning. Ryan had even gone as far as asking Horatio what it meant. The red-head had read the shirt over the rim of his coffee cup, choked, and walked quickly away.

"Are you ready to reveal the hidden meaning of your shirt yet?" Ryan asked, walking into the kitchen as Eric slammed a plate onto the counter. He jumped when Ryan spoke and smacked his head off the open microwave door.

"Morning. Has your hibernation ended? I've was working on developing my cooking skills while you were sleeping, but-" He was interrupted as the chair Ryan had sat in collapsed. Ryan looked from the charred chair leg to Eric's guilty face.

"Tell me it's time for me to return to the gym." Eric grinned sheepishly and shook his head.

"But, it didn't go so well, so my omelet sort of... caughtfireandburnedthecurtains." Ryan stared at him.

"You caught the curtains on fire?"

"Well, yeah. The chair wasn't my fault though! When I pulled them down to stomp the fire out, the chair was too near and the flames caught it. In the end, I sprayed them with the sink hose." He held up a plastic package from the counter. "I'm back to microwave cooking. For now."

"Forever," Ryan said shaking his head. He took the hand Eric offered and allowed himself to be lifted from the chair's broken remains. Kneading his aching tail-bone, he fixed Eric with a piercing gaze. "Now then, that was a valiant attempt to distract me, but you can admit defeat now. Who was at the door?"

Eric gave him an innocent look that only served to make Ryan even more nervous. He doubted Eric had ever even used the expression before. When Ryan continued to level him, Eric gave in, but seemed determined to avoid the minefield.

"How much did you hear?" he asked cautiously as Ryan unplugged his beeper from the charger by the fridge.

"Enough to guess who it was. Your suggestion with the credit card kinda gave it away. What did she want?"

Eric admitted defeat and replied, "She needed her card refilled." Ryan's fingers froze over the beeper's buttons.

"...That card had a thousand dollars on it."

"She called last night saying that she needed to talk to you, but I said you were sleeping. I wasn't planning to tell you, but then she showed up here." Eric paused, scratching the back of his neck. "Why's she still here?"

Ryan opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap as the doorbell rang for the second time. Eric leapt up from the counter and started for the door, but Ryan beat him to the kitchen doorway. "Let me talk to her," he said quietly, giving Eric a small smile that stilled Eric long enough that the younger man could slip past.

Eric leaned against the hallway wall, listening as he heard the front door open, then, "Well, it's _about time_, Ryan. I've been trying to reach you since yesterday. That man who was with you wouldn't let me talk to you! My credit card-"

Her torrent of complaints was cut off by Ryan's quiet murmur. Eric caught the words, "...coming back with you..." and "...leading the business..." before a horrible screech echoed down the hall.  
"**YOU'LL **_**WHAT**_?" Eric started violently and almost dropped his coffee. "RYAN JAMES WOLFE, WE ARE YOUR _FAMILY_! YOU **OWE** YOUR LOYALTY TO US!" Eric hurried down the hall, and was rounding the corner when Ryan replied. Mrs. Wolfe was deathly pale and was clutching her Prada bag convulsively, staring at Ryan's stony face in a sort of horrified anger.

"I'll give you three days to get the hell out of my house and make plans to leave Miami. Rico will be back by then, and he'll escort you and Monica to the airport. That's all I can and will do for you two. Send father my regards." And he shut the door, leaving his mother out on the front step.

Ryan crumpled against the wall, looking like he'd just endured a beating. Eric shook his head. It was incredible that Ryan could still feel guilty about his mother and sister. Ryan jumped when he felt Eric's arm around his shoulder, but didn't protest when Eric lead him into the living room and pushed him onto the sofa. Dropping down next to him, he and Ryan stared at each other for a minute before Eric broke the silence.

"H gave us today and tomorrow off while you were passed out at work yesterday. Ryan, who was now settling himself in the corner of the couch, looked up from wedging himself in between the cushions and the armrest. He looked more like a cat then ever.

"Really? That was... unusual of him. What for?"

"Probably because he knew Calleigh and Alexx would make sure he'd be the next one under Alexx's knife if he didn't let you catch up on your sleep. I think he just wanted me to make sure Calleigh didn't appear in the night. So we're free for the rest of the weekend. You think you're up for doing something tonight?" Ryan was staring at him in a sort of transfixed way, but he nodded at Eric suggestion.

"Where did you want to go?" Eric glanced at his watch.

"Well, it's now 12:15, and we won't be leaving until about seven, so you have plenty of time. For now, it's a surprise. But I'll give you a hint." He grinned at Ryan's apprehensive face.

"Don't wear too many layers."

-oOo-

As he let the hot water of the shower pound into his back, Ryan had to admit it.

He was pissed. More than pissed, he was... enraged. That his mother had the audacity to threaten him if he didn't return to his father's side had been extremely foolish of her. She knew how out of her depth she was here in Miami. She had no friends, no acquaintances, no connections here. One of the reasons he'd moved to Florida had been because it was so far out of his father's reach.

He'd have to call Rico and ask him to contact Mendeli and Ramon. His mother was smart enough not to let his sister out of her sight for now. When they'd arrived at the airport, it had been one thing, but it would have gotten out by now that they were here...

Ryan shook his head, clearing the water from his eyes. No, Monica and his mother be fine. His house was in a safe neighborhood, and it was an age old pact that family and business were two separate categories, ones that never intermingled. Neither Mendeli or Ramon would want to incur the anger of all their competitors by breaking that sacred rule. They'd be considered a threat and eliminated.

A pounding on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Ryan! You almost done in there? I know you want to look good for me, but there's only so much you can do to improve in some cases..." Ryan grinned despite himself as he wrapped a towel around his hips.

"Don't worry Eric, I'll try not to let your obvious plainness drag my image down tonight," he called back through the door. He heard Eric sputter in protest and laughed before pulling open the door. Steam gushed out of the small bathroom and into Ryan's room. Eric was sitting on the edge of the bed. Ryan swallowed the wrong way as he took in Eric's exposing outfit.

"Where exactly are we going again?" he asked nervously, not really sure if he had anything quite of that... caliber. Eric, who, damn him, seemed quite aware of the effect he was having, shook his head.

"It's a secret. Don't worry, just wear some light-weight clothing. It's going to be really hot there." _For more reasons then one_, Ryan though wryly as he knotted the towel at his waist and meandered over to his closet. Ho-hum... jeans, jeans, jeans, jeans- why the hell were those here? Ryan didn't remember packing anything made of leather. He glanced over at Eric, who was staring conspicuously at the ceiling. Which probably meant... Yep. There was another unfamiliar shirt hidden among his others. Was that _fishnet _on the sleeves?

Pulling them from their places on the hangers, Ryan turned to face Eric with a raised eyebrow. Eric gave him a devilish grin, the one he'd given to a fed lawyer when she'd refused to give him an update on a case. It was that smile that'd had her handing him the entire case file. Ryan felt shivers run up his spine.

"I figured you'd need something for tonight, so I did asked Calleigh to pick something up. She dropped if off while you were asleep. I'll let you change." With that, he jumped up and left, closing the door behind him.

Ryan eyed the outfit again, mainly the pants. They were extremely tight, to much so for boxers... or underwear... or anything. Ryan wasn't sure whether or not he should thank Calleigh or kill her. Dropping the towel, he worked his way into them until the leather settled snugly around his waist. Next, he pulled the black shirt over his head and pulled the fishnet sleeves down to his wrists. Glancing at his reflection as he walked over to door, he allowed himself a predatory grin.

-oOo-

**A quick author's note: I think you all can guess what's coming. ;D I couldn't resist a scene like this, it just has too much potential!**

-oOo-

Eric shifted uncomfortably, trying to concentrate on the road. He wondered briefly if Ryan had any idea how different he looked dressed in something other than his usual jeans and t-shirts. He decided that he was going to have to build Calleigh a shrine: he loved her for this.

The Hummer pulled up at the front of Eric's favorite club, _Miami Heat_. Ryan looked slightly sick, but unsurprised, probably guessing where they were going by the outfits. A valet tapped on Eric's window, so Eric opened the car door, dropped the keys in the uniformed man's hand, and waited while Ryan stepped out. The club's flashing lights reflected in his green eyes, which remained wide as he joined Eric and they walked up to the bouncer, maneuvering through large groups of screaming girls and men in expensive linen suits. They gave Eric and Ryan dirty looks as they passed them in line. Eric smirked.

Newbs. They could empty daddy's vault buying the look, but in this scene it was all about who you knew. The first time you got into a club, the first thing you did was prepare to spend big. Make yourself a favorite with the manager and chat up the bartenders. Eventually, if you charmed enough people, your name was passed along to the bouncer. You became a regular. A patron.

Eric had done just this about two weeks after Marisol's death. Even completely stoned, he'd been able to worm his way onto the VIP list. And now it could pay off in ways other than getting him the best booze Miami had to offer.

The bouncer, Ferdie (whose name you didn't laugh at if you wanted to keep you neck connected to your shoulders), grinned when he approached.

"Eric Delko," he said in his quick, Jamaican- accented voice. "It's been too long, my man. I was worried you'd found a new club. Hello," he said, noticing Ryan, who was at Eric shoulder. "Who're you?"

"Ryan," said the younger, giving Ferdie a brief wave.

"Well, at least it won't be me having to get your drunk ass in a cab," he told Eric before smirking at Ryan. "You keep him on a tight leash. The ladies have missed him too much." With that, he waved them in, then popped his knuckles a couple who dared question his judgment. Eric put his hand on the small of Ryan's back and propelled him down a long, dark arch that led to the clubs large golden doors. Another uniformed employee flashed them a grin and pressed the button that opened the automated doors.

Inside, everything was bathed in alternating colors of blue and red as the lighting flashed. The space along the walls was filled with booths and tables. The dance floor was a sunken pit that could be reached by two large stairways on either end. The bar was on the far wall, and Eric could see that Kelly was bar-tending tonight.

"Do you want to hit the bar?" he shouted to Ryan over the music and screaming of the dance floor's inhabitants. Ryan nodded, and the two of them walked around the floor to the bar, occasionally stopping when Eric was greeted. The strange thing was how many people seemed to know Ryan already, at least by name. Demetrius, who Eric had met his second night at the club, had looked Ryan over and said, "So you're Miami's Wolfe, huh? I'll probably be seeing you around."

Ramon, one of the club's patrons, had actually disentangled himself from his arm-candy and clapped Ryan on the back, saying something about 'keeping things clean.' Ryan hadn't been surprised by this greeting at all, instead smiling that small smile and thanking him. As Eric and Ryan finally reached the bar, he asked, "You've met Ramon before?"

Pulling his stool over to Eric's, Ryan nodded. "He's friends with Rico." They didn't have to talk quite so loudly anymore now that they were farther from the speakers. Kelly, whose ice blond hair was dyed blue at the tips and pulled into pigtails, wobbled over to them.

"Damn these heels. My feet hurt like hell. Hey Eric!" She gave him a sunny grin.

"Hey Kel. You still haven't dropped this job yet?" Kelly was only in her first year of college, barely even legal for her job. She shook her head.

"Nah, I need the cash too badly. You're one to talk though. How many times have you stumbled out of here and into someone's bed? Or maybe it was you leading them home," she corrected with a laugh. "The regulars have missed you. Why the hell were you gone so long? It's been like a month!"

Eric allowed his gaze to slide to Ryan, then back to Kelly. Her eyes made two round 'O's before she turned and waved another another of the bartenders. As the second one took Ryan's order she leaned over the bar to talk to him more privately.

"Stacey is going to be royally pissed. She's been asking about you ever since she got back from her trip to Seattle. What are you going to tell her?" Eric scowled at the mention of the club's co-manager.

"To go fuck herself. She doesn't own me," he snarled back. Kelly held up her hands.

"I'm just warning you. So..." A smile very close to Calleigh's and just as scary curled her lips. "How's he in bed?" Eric winked at her.

"You'll never know." She winked back and handed him whatever the night's special was. He never liked to have the same thing too many times in a row. He sipped it and looked at Ryan, who was staring at his own.

"What's the matter?"

"It's purple." Eric examined the drink, which was a deep violet and so murky he couldn't see the bottom of the glass.

"What the hell did you order?"

"I just asked for whatever he'd recommend." Ryan picked up a small menu that listed all the drinks the bar served. Sighing, he said, "I can't even pronounce half of these names." He picked up the glass and sniffed it. "Well, it doesn't have anything floating in it, so..." With one movement, Ryan downed half the glass, then scrunched his face.

"It taste like shit. Screw this." Smacking the bar twice in quick succession, he waited until the other bartender came over. "Vodka, straight please." Eric felt the surprise on his face, and Ryan laughed. "You're forgetting whose family I was part of. My father hosted multiple... parties, and it used to entertain them to see how much I could drink before I forgot my name. Monica always lost those games."

Eric shook his head. "You had one screwed up childhood. Here, try this." He handed the apple martini to Ryan, who took a small sip of it, then a second. "Hmm. I'd probably order one if I wasn't the one who's probably the one driving tonight. So, how often do you come here?" He handed Eric back the martini.

"Well, I haven't really been here in a while. I usually come here when I'm bored, depressed, or horny, which I haven't really been any of for the last month or so." That last one, Eric knew was a lie. He'd been almost constantly hard since Ryan had moved in, especially since last night, when he'd fallen asleep in Ryan's bed when Ryan had yet to relinquish his grip on Eric's shirt. In the morning, they'd somehow maneuvered themselves to that Ryan's arms were around Eric and Eric's leg was over Ryan's waist. After untangling himself, Eric had woken up by taking a _very_ cold shower.

"So are you saying I don't turn you on?" asked Ryan with a playful smile, accepting his drink from the bartender. The bartender who'd first brought Ryan the purple drink, whose name card read Scott, leaned over to bar towards Ryan.

"Don't worry babe. Even if you don't do it for him, I certain can't say the same." And, with a last flirty smile, he walked back up the bar. Eric laughed at the shocked look on Ryan's face, allowing it to ease the flash of jealousy that had jolted through him.

"You may have been to parties, but this is a Miami bar. Things are a little more..." As he cast around for words, Ryan watched one of the strippers throw her bra to the crowd. "Extreme."

"So I'm seeing," Ryan muttered, downing half his vodka in one gulp. Eric let them both go at another few drinks before he decided Ryan was drunk enough to be a little more... flexible then he might usually have been.

"Come on boyo, let's see if you can still walk," laughed Eric, pulling Ryan to his feet. Since he could still walk in a straight line, Eric asked, "Okay then... can you dance?"

Ryan snorted slightly, as if this was the most obvious thing in the word. "Of course I can _dance_," he giggled. Eric felt Ryan intertwine their fingers and start tugging him towards the dance floor. He leaned closer to Eric's ear and breathed, "Let me show you." Eric shivered at the feel of Ryan's lips trailing down the down his neck to the crook of his neck. Eric let Ryan pull him down the large stairs onto the dance floor, diving into the surging mass of bodies. When they reached the center, Eric pulled Ryan to him, felling the smoothness of his skin through the fishnet.

Settling one hand on his hips and hooking the other on the back pocket of Ryan's pants, Eric traced the inner shell of Ryan's ear with his tongue before moving down to nip his earlobe. Ryan began to move against him, occasionally brushing Eric's groin with his As the music picked up along with the volume of the people around them, Eric rolled his hips against Ryan, making them both gasp.

Letting the emotions and alcohol trample all inhibitions, Eric brought his mouth down on Ryan's while bringing Ryan flush against him and grinding their erections. He felt Ryan's tongue, slightly hesitant and shy prod his lips gently, and he opened them to allow the intrusion, wrapping his tongue with Ryan's, who moaned as Eric kneaded his butt.

A minute later, Eric knew what it felt like to want to commit murder. He hissed as something clawed at his shoulder under the guise of a tap. He unwillingly pulled away from Ryan, who immediately continued down his jaw to his ear, at turned to look at one of the last people he wanted to see.

Stacey Meyer, co-manager of the club. Eric hadn't seen her since he'd left almost two months ago. She'd been hanging around him his last few visits, and the night before she'd left for Seattle to visit her sister, they'd both gotten drunk enough for Eric to take her to a higher-end hotel farther down the strip. He'd made it a rule early on not to take anyone home. It kept things from getting too personal.

Stacey obviously wasn't taking that well. Her long red hair was elaborately curled and pulled up, but it continued to be mussed as she twirled it viciously around her index finger, whose talon-sized nail was painted a bright yellow. Her skirt went about half way down her thighs, which was pretty decent for her, but the slit that went all the way up to her black belt destroyed that. Her black blouse was mostly unbuttoned, and she was using her lingerie as an undershirt.

Eric shook her clawed hands off his shoulder as she took in Ryan gently nipping his way across Eric's collarbone.

"What the hell, you son of a bitch?" she seethed. Her teeth glistened in the club lights as she bared them in her anger. "Where the fuck have you been? You didn't call, you weren't here for ages, then you show up with... _him_?" she spat, gesturing at Ryan, who was watching her with his eerie green eyes from the crook of Eric's neck.

Eric tightened his grip around Ryan's waist as Stacey tried to kill the younger with a glare.

"You knew that wasn't going to develop. I told you before we even checked in that it was a one time thing. And you said that's all you expected, Stace," Eric returned.

"Don't you call me that you ass! You owe me for that night! You think you can just show up here with some other _man-whore_ and expect me to just let you parade around?" Stacey's face was turning a dark shade of red, though it was hard to tell in the lighting.

"I don't owe you anything. We both agreed that it would be a one-night stand, and that's all it's ever going to be," Eric snapped.

In the flashing strobe lights, Eric could see he raise her hand, nails shimmering, when Ryan, though male was barely her size, suddenly moved. His hand shot out in front of Eric and grabbed her wrist. Eric caught a glance of Ryan's face as he spoke in a low, menacing voice every swear word in every language Eric had ever used around the house at Stacey. His face was completely blank, but his eyes were glaze, and his pupils had dilated, making him look inhumanly feline.

Ryan suddenly dropped her wrist and towed Eric away, leaving Stacey standing in the middle of the floor. When the reached the corners of the floor and the stairs, Ryan began sucking on Eric's bottom lip. Stacey was forgotten almost immediately as Eric ran his tongue along Ryan's lips. Eric pushed Ryan against the wall and grinded hard against him, continuing even when Ryan began to cry out.

Eric broke the kiss long enough for Ryan to gasp for some much-needed oxygen before attacking his mouth again, now pulling him back off the dance floor towards the exit. When they reached the other side of the club's doors, Eric grinning at Kelly from the other side of the room as he pulled Ryan through, Eric pinned Ryan against the side of the tunnel and continued until a very flustered valet asked for their parking ticket.

Eric fished into his back pocket and handed it to her while Ryan ran his tongue down his chest. The valet scurried away and returned a few minutes later with the silver Hummer. Despite being a CSI, Eric broke a couple speeding laws getting the two of them home. When they finally screeched into the driveway, Ryan was hissing ever time he shifted in his seat. Eric's jeans were also getting extremely tight.

Pulling Ryan out of the passenger's seat, Eric pulled him back into the house, shutting the door firmly behind him.

-oOo-

**sorry, guys, no lemons for now! I know, I love them, but I just suck at writing them... I'd probably ruin the moment. Just a quick note, I know my time line kinda skips around a lot, so CLARIFICATION:**

**They've known each other for about two and a half-months now, and Ryan's been living w/ Eric for about a month.**

**In this chapter, I know that near the end Eric kinda seemed like a jerk with Stacey, but I was kinda trying to compare and contrast. Ya know, how he treats all the other hoes vs. how he treats Ryan.**

**All so, can anyone guess why Ryan was suddenly so friendly? SEVERE DRAMA COMING UP!! Reveal your thoughts to me! Ciao.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hola everyone!! thank you all so much for your loving reviews! I'm so glad that you're all enjoying the story so far, cause I'm really having fun writing it. Oh yeah, message to**

**Pepleigh25: sorry about the confusion about the shirt. Ryan hasn't been able to find out what it says yet. Don't worry, it will eventually be revealed (; Now then, on with the show- there's a serious twist coming up. Hope you enjoy!**

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 6**

**Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko**

Eric was woken up by the sound of the shower from the bathroom across from his room. Squinting against the light, he sat up and looked around. Ryan's clothes were still at the foot of the bed, and Eric could see his shadow against the curtain of the shower.

Grinning, Eric got up and walked across the hall into the bathroom. Walking silently across the tiles, he climbed in behind Ryan, who was standing under the spray with it pounding his face. Eric pressed himself against him and kissed his neck. Ryan's reaction almost bashed his head in.

Ryan leapt away from him and knocked his head off the shower head. He leaned as far away from Eric as he could, pressed against the wall. Eric frowned at him as Ryan's eyes darted from him to the door, judging the distance.

What the fucking hell?

Eric shifted towards him, and Ryan froze, looking like a deer in headlights. Eric's eyes narrowed when Ryan flinched away from his hand as he ran it down his arm.

"Ryan?" Eric murmured, threading their fingers together. Ryan stared blankly past his shoulder, his mouth set in a hard line. Eric dropped his hand and stepped away from him.

Ryan bolted.

Eric continued to shower, listening as Ryan snatched his towel from the rack by the door and disappearing into his room down the hall, shutting the door behind him. As let the water pummel his back, Eric felt anger build up in his chest.

Ryan had played him. He'd been all action at the club last night, but now that it was over, Ryan wasn't responding to him. Was that why he wouldn't look at him? He felt guilty that Eric had thought it would be more than a one-night thing?

Eric shut the water off, grabbing a towel off the rack as he stepped out and wrapped it around his waist. As he heard Ryan clattering around his room, Eric's anger flared. He marched down the hall and flung the door open.

Ryan was wearing a pair of jeans and was busy stuffing everything within his closet back into his over-sized duffel bag, then pulling things back out to fold them. Eric watched him in silence from the doorway as Ryan forced the zipper shut and slung the bag over his bare shoulder. He stopped suddenly when he spotted Eric blocking the exit. His face blanched an unhealthy white, and he immediately dropped his gaze to the floor.

Eric cleared his throat, but the question still came out hoarsely. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"Why?" Eric felt like the floor had just been yanked out from under him. He walked over to Ryan and reached out to touch his face, but Ryan jerked away.

"Don't touch me. Just please... don't touch me." His voice was quivering, and his eyes were closed.

Eric was seething. "You bastard," he hissed. Ryan, who'd seemed so innocent, who he'd let live in his house, who'd fed him that bullshit sob story about his family. Eric couldn't decide who he hated more. Ryan for lying to him to get him into bed, or himself for letting it happen.

Eric had made an emotional fatal mistake.

He'd taken Ryan home.

-oOo-

Ryan pounded on the door of his house, waiting as he heard his mother shuffling around on the other side. When the door opened and she'd spotted him, she tried to shut the door. Ryan caught it with his hand and pushed it back open.

"What do you think you're doing, Ryan? We're leaving, alright! You win, we're going back north and we'll be gone in a few days, so you can just-"

"I'm coming with you." Mrs. Wolfe stopped in mid sentence and stared at her son. He was staring at the wall with an empty gaze, expression dead.

"Wh-what?"

"I'm coming back with you. Tell father that I'm returning to the business."

Mrs. Wolfe stared at him for a minute, then gave him a shrewd smile.

"Well, it's about time. I'm glad you decided to finally see sense, Ryan. You're father will be pleased with you." She patted him on the cheek and went to call her husband to share her victory.

Ryan dropped his bag by the door and shut it behind him. He walked down the familiar hallway, distantly noting that most of the drawers were open and rifled through and that his emergency cash was missing from the armchair of the sofa. He couldn't even bring up the energy to feel angry, instead continuing into his bedroom.

Monica was sitting on the chair in the corner. She was curled up in a small ball with a book resting on her knees, and Ryan was reminded of when they'd been younger, before they'd chosen sides. All he makeup was gone, and all the gel had been washed out of her hair, and she looked at him with eyes identical to his own, watching as he walked over and dropped onto his bed, which had been neatly and meticulously made by his sister.

Wordlessly, she stood and moved to the bed next to him, taking his hand in hers. They'd sat like this for hours when they were younger, whether it be in the corner of the ball room, watching their father's associates stumble around the room, or in the cellar when Monica was hiding from their pedophile tutor.

Ryan hadn't seen his sister since the reading of their grandfather's will. She'd just stood in front of the coffin in silence, not even glancing at Ryan, though it had been years since he'd left the house. Seeing her at the airport, it had been difficult to recognize her. Monica had always dressed rather... provocatively, but her mother had let her run rampant. She'd seemed beyond saving. To him, she was just another Wolfe. He hadn't expected her to still have a soft spot in her heart.

"What are you doing, Ryan?" she asked quietly. Ryan turned to look at her as she fixed him with an angry glare, taking him aback.

"I'm leaving. I'm going back to Pittsburgh, and I'm staying there. I'm done running." Monica squeezed his hand.

"No you're not. That's what you're doing right now, isn't it? You're running away from something like a coward. You're hoping that if you just disappear, so will the problems. And you should know that it's not going to work. After all," she gave him a small, bitter smile. "We're here, aren't we?"

-oOo-

Horatio was in good physical health. He was the wonder of doctors and other men his age. The years hadn't affected him in the slightest. So why was his hearing suddenly giving out? Because it was sounding like Ryan Wolfe was asking for a transfer.

"You want what?" Even to his own ears, Horatio's voice had lost its objective professionalism and was colored by disbelief. Ryan's gaze never wavered.

"I want to be transferred to the Night Shift as soon as possible. I've already talked to the night supervisor. There's a position open." Horatio sat back in his chair and studied the newest member of his team. There were bags under his eyes, and his eyes looked deadened. He looked even worse than when Horatio had given him the weekend off.

"Is there any specific reason why? Was there a... problem?" he asked carefully. Ryan's jaw clenched.

"Not really. I just need a change of scene," he hissed from behind his teeth. It was a weak excuse, and Horatio knew that just for that he could say no. But something was wrong, and it was best to let Ryan have some peace while Horatio worked on what the hell had happened.

"All right then, Mr. Wolfe. I'll contact the night-shift supervisor and we'll set up you're transfer. I'll contact you in the lab when it's completed. Go ahead over to the DNA lab and have them do some standard blood work. I'll fill out the forms later." Ryan nodded and stood, giving Horatio a small smile before leaving the lieutenant's office. Horatio fingered the edged of Ryan's folder, sent to him by the night-shift supervisor, Rick Meyer.

Ryan was willing to switch to the graveyard shift for less pay. He came back from his days off in even worse shape then before. Eric, who'd been the last one of them to see him, who'd taken him home, hadn't clocked in yet. Horatio picked up his beeper and tried calling him for the third time. Eric still didn't pick up.

Standing, Horatio left his office and found Calleigh and Speed, who were both in the break room. Calleigh was cussing at the vending machine for ripping her off while Speed used his palm pilot to look up answers to the newspaper's crossword puzzle. Horatio cleared his throat, and they both look over at him.

"We have an unusual lack of attendance today," he commented casually. Calleigh turned back to the vending machine and started smacking it, trying to make the bag of chips she'd bought fall into the bin.

"Well, Ryan's already in the lab. He said he had some stuff to catch up on. Alexx is finishing the paperwork for the double- homicide a few days ago. They bodies are being released today. I haven't seen Eric yet. So what's the buzz?" Calleigh asked, giving a squeal of glee as her chips were finally freed. She snatched them up and began munching perching on the couch next to Speed.

Horatio looked at the two of them. They and Alexx had been on his team the longest time, and he trusted them infinitely.

"Ryan is being transferred." Calleigh choked on her Sun-chips, and Speed clapped her on the back.

"What? WHY??" she coughed, her face tinged pink as she rubbed her throat.

"He requested to be moved to the night shift. Meyer has already agreed to it. I just signed off on all the paperwork. Today's his last day on day-shift. Speed was staring at him with his mouth open, but Calleigh jumped off the couch and snarled,

"That son of a bitch!" Horatio lifted an eyebrow at her as she continued. "Where the fuck is Eric?"

"What the hell does he have to do with anything?" asked Speed. "He hasn't even clocked in yet." Calleigh whipped out her phone and dialed his number. Horatio frowned when Eric answered.

"What did you do, you sleazy, two-timing ass?" she hissed. She listened to his reply for a moment, but only seemed to get even more pissed.

"Don't you give me that shit! You obviously did something. Ryan's being transferred to night shift. What? Well, I suppose it's good you don't care, because we're certainly not going to be seeing him any time soon!" She stopped again. The anger faded from her face, instead melting into confusion.

"He did what? He just up and left, just like that? Did he say why? Where'd he go?" Calleigh was frowning now. "Who called? Monica? I've never heard of her. I didn't even know he had a sister. HE WAS GONNA GO WHERE? She took care of it? You need to get you ass in here and explain this completely. We can't do anything until we have all the facts. Damn you have one screwed up love life. Yeah, I know, I know. Bye."

She closed her phone with a snap, staring at it. Horatio cleared his throat. She looked up at him, chewing on her bottom lip, before suddenly shouting,

"Bathroom, womanly emergency, see ya guys!" and bolted, heading towards the morgue instead of the bathrooms, probably going to recruit Alexx into whatever was going on. Horatio and Speed looked at each other. Speed spoke first.

"What the hell?"

-oOo-

Eric dropped his cell phone back onto the bed and sat down. He was in Ryan's room, trying to sort things out. He looked around, and it ached how much Ryan had left behind in his absence. Everything was unnaturally clean, the bed was made, and the books that were on the shelf in the corner were alphabetized by author. Ryan's clothes from last night were folded and sitting on the chair in the corner.

Why had he left? The more Eric though about it, the less it made sense. Ryan had run from him, like an animal in a trap, and he had no idea why. Then, a few hours later, Monica of all people had called him.

_"Delko."_

_"Are you the one Ryan was staying with?" The voice on the other end was feminine and talking in a low voice. Eric's eyes narrowed._

_"Who is this?"_

_"His sister, Monica. Don't hang up," she said quickly, which is just what Eric had been about to do. _

_"What do you want?" he snapped. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her right now. "I don't know where Ryan is, nor do I care, so-"_

_"Will you please shut up!" she snapped, cutting across him. "I know you don't like me, and that's okay, because right now I hate your fucking guts. Ryan is here. He came to my mother saying that he was going back to Pittsburgh with us." Eric felt like he'd just been shot._

_"He's leaving?" he asked quietly. Monica snorted. _

_"No. I've talked him out of it. We're in one of the motels a few blocks away. My mother thinks that we've gone to get her dinner. I'm calling you to find out what the hell happened. He came back completely out of it. I'll be talking to him and suddenly he just gets really angry or he'll just start hugging me, and it's creeping me out, so I'm asking you if you've got him on some kind of drug or something. I swear to god, if he is-" _

_"But he's not leaving?" Eric clarified._

_"No, you selfish ass, you're boy toy isn't leaving. But from the way he flew off the handle when I asked about you, I wouldn't expect anything except attempted castration if you come near him. Listen, I don't agree with just about everything he says, and I know he hates my guts, but he's still my little brother and you're the reason that he's ruining his life here." Eric snarled at her wording. _

_"He's not my fucking boy toy. And you don't need to worry, I won't be getting near him any time soon. He's not worth the time."_

Eric put his head in his hands, kneading his eyes. Why was everyone calling him in such a fucking snit? What was that son of a bitch telling them? Eric stood, clipping his beeper to his belt and pulling on a shirt.

Well, if Ryan was going to run away like the fucking coward he was, Eric certainly didn't give a shit. And he wasn't going to let it affect him. He'd explain things to Calleigh and the subject would be dropped.

Walking outside to the silver Hummer, he climbed in and started the car. As he pulled around the corner and onto the main street. It started to rain, great drops spattering the windshield. Driving down the Miami strip, Eric glanced out the window toward _Miami Heat_. The carpet was mostly empty except for employees since it was the middle of the day. A woman who was talking to someone in a bar uniform and a shock of blond hair caught his eye since she was the only one not in leather. Why the hell did everyone have that fucking Prada purse?

Just thinking about Mrs. Wolfe blackened Eric's mood. Glancing around his car, Eric groaned. Ryan's beeper was laying on the floor. As he looked at it, the small black phone suddenly began vibrating. As he pulled up to a stoplight, Eric leaned down and picked it up, glancing at the screen.

_Missed Call: Rico ;)_

Eric mouth twisted, and he tossed the phone onto the passenger's seat.

By the time he'd reached the lab, it was pouring. Sprinting through the Miami downpour, Eric emerged in the lobby completely soaked. Nodding to the receptionist, he walked down the halls to Calleigh, who was waiting in the ballistics lab. Spotting him, she settled herself on the counter and patted the space next to her. Eric sat down as she turned to face him.

"What happened?" she asked softly. Eric laughed under his breath.

"I don't even know. I took him clubbing. We had a few drinks, one thing led to another... he was fine with it last night... then this morning, he flipped out. He didn't want me touching him, he couldn't even look me in the face. He just said he was leaving, packed his stuff and disappeared. Then his sister called me asking what I'd done to him because he was going all emotional on her. He wanted to go back to Pittsburgh with them, but she talked him out of it. I'd guess he felt guilty, but I really don't give."

At that moment, Alexx walked in. Eric was surprised to see her since she usually didn't leave the morgue except to come to the break room. He was even more shocked when she came over and enveloped him in a motherly hug. She usually saved this sort of attitude for Speed and occasionally Ryan.

"Oh baby," she sighed, rubbing his back. "You've had a tough day. But I can tell you one thing: Ryan's has been twice as bad." Eric stiffened, pulling out of her embrace.

"What'd he tell you," he hissed. Alexx shook her head, staring at him sadly.

"You two are going to need to work on your communication."

"_We _aren't going to be working on _anything_, so-" Alexx shushed him. Calleigh, who was watching them, jumped when her phone suddenly went off.

"Dus- Oh, hey H. Yeah, he's here. Yeah, for about a month. You didn't know that they were living together? Why does it matter? And? There was _what_ in his blood?" She suddenly turned to stare at Eric. "Oh, shit. Is he okay? How long do you think they're going to keep him? Yeah, I'll tell the team. Bye."

"I'm guessing you just found out?" asked Alexx. Calleigh nodded, sitting back down on the counter.

"Holy shit, my life is a soap opera," she commented, continuing to stare at Eric. "Is that what you were about to tell him?" As Alexx nodded, Eric started to get pissed.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Horatio had blood work done since Ryan was being transferred to the night-shift. He just got the results back. There was GHB in his blood."

Eric froze. Both the women watched him carefully as he started at the floor, putting things together.

GHB was a date rape drug. It increased sexual stimulus and suppressed memory. It meant that at some point, Ryan had somehow ingested it and it had made him completely irrational. That was why he'd suddenly been so eager at the club. His body was responding to Eric, and his mind was just tagging along. When he'd gotten up this morning, the drug would have blocked all his memory since he swallowed it.

He'd probably just woken up next to Eric with no idea of how he'd gotten there. He'd have known something had happened, but couldn't remember what and under what circumstances. It had probably occurred to him that he'd been drugged. It would have made sense to assume that, since he'd slept with Eric, that Eric was the one who'd slipped it into his drink.

Eric ran a hand over his face. Ryan thought that Eric had date raped him. That's why he'd packed his bags and run, why he didn't want to be touched. And technically speaking, Eric realized with a jolt of horror, he had been raped. He hadn't been able to say no, and Eric had thought he was making a move.

Eric began to laugh hysterically, barely hearing Calleigh's alarmed question of, "Eric, are you okay?" He was far from okay. He had raped Ryan, and Ryan believed he'd done it on purpose, which is why he'd tried to leave Miami. Monica had tried to ask him about it.

"_He came back completely out of it. I'll be talking to him and suddenly he just gets really angry or he'll just start hugging me, and it's creeping me out, so I'm asking you if you've got him on some kind of drug or something."_

She had sensed that something was wrong and had tried to call him about it, and being the jackass he was, he'd hung up on her, too busy being angry to care.

Alexx put her hand on his cheek as Calleigh looked over her shoulder. Did they believe he'd drugged Ryan as well?

"...the ambulance just picked him up, so-" Eric suddenly tuned in to what Calleigh was saying.

"Wait, what?" Alexx ran a hand over his forehead.

"Ryan's in the hospital. The drug caused an infection in his organs and he collapsed in the lab. One of the techs found him slumped over his table and called Horatio, who called the hospital. They don't know how long he was sitting there, so..." She trailed off.

Eric jumped to his feet, startling both of them.

"We need to go down to the hospital," Eric snapped, heading for the door. Calleigh caught his arm and pulled him back.

"Eric," she said gently, "There's nothing we can do right now for him. But Horatio needs to talk to you. He just found out that you two were living together, so since you were with him over the weekend, Horatio's going to need to interview you. He's waiting in the corner room." She patted him on the back as he passed her.

Stepping into the elevator, Eric closed his eyes against the muted light and leaned against the wall. He was going to a police interview for the drugging and rape of Ryan Wolfe. How could this have happened? Eric paused for a minute and considered the question.

How had this happened. Ryan had been drugged by someone. He wouldn't have had any at the house, which meant it was slipped in his drink at the club. What had he been drinking? Eric tried to sort through the muddled haze of alcohol to concentrate on the memory.

Vodka, a few shots of it. No, he'd been pretty messed up before that... a sip of Eric's martini. But Eric himself was fine, so that wasn't it either. What else had there been? Eric thought to when they'd sat down. Ryan had gotten some weird purple drink that he'd only taken one sip of before ordering the vodka. It must have been the one that was drugged.

Eric suddenly felt sick. He'd been watching Ryan drink GHB and hadn't done anything to stop it. They'd both already agreed that it was pretty disgusting, why hadn't Eric just told him to toss it? But Eric could wallow in pity later. Who'd given Ryan the damn drink?

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall the image of the bartender's face. He knew it had been a guy, but Eric couldn't summon a face...

"SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!" Eric roared, just as the elevator door opened. Ignoring the looks he was getting from the other workers in the hallway, he continued on to interview room #4. Horatio and Detective Frank were waiting for him. Frank gestured to the metal chair that suspects usual sat in. Eric sat down, uncomfortable being on the other side of the table.

"Alright, Eric, we'll keep this quick. It's... uncomfortable for all of us," said Frank, sitting down while Horatio stood next to him. "Ryan Wolfe lives with you, correct?"

"Yes."

"How long has he been there?"

"... about a month." Eric answered unwillingly. Horatio was watching him with an unwavering gaze.

"What was the... the nature of your relationship?" Eric stared at Frank, who was looking determinedly at his notebook, exposing only the top of his balding head, which was beet red.

"I'm... not sure," Eric admitted. Yesterday, he would have said friends. Last night, he would have said lovers. This morning, he would have declared them enemies. Now... he had no idea.

"Have you had sexual... um, well..." Eric came to the detective's rescue.

"Do you mean have we slept together?" When Frank nodded Eric answered, "Yes."

"When?"

"Last night." Now Frank looked up at him, and his shocked expression matched Horatio's.

"Last night?" Frank choked out, sounding disbelieving. Eric fixed him with a cold glare, trying to avoid letting Horatio see the shame of knowing what he'd inadvertently done.

"Yes, last night. We went to _Miami Heat_ together and then we came back hom- to my house around 12:30."

"Are you aware that GHB was found in his blood stream?"

"Yes."

"Based on the diluted potency of it, we're estimating that it was administered around eight o'clock last night. What time did you arrive at the club?" asked Horatio, his voice quiet and neutral.

"About 7:30," Eric said, aware of how bad this was looking right now. Frank's expression was hardened. It was possible he was already a lost cause. Only Horatio looked like he still wasn't convinced.

"Who did you speak to at the club?" asked Horatio, handing Frank a pen.

"Ferdie, the bouncer, Ramon Ellis, Demetrius Ciper, Kelly, the bartender, and Stacey Meyer, the co-manager." Frank looked up from his notepad.

"Stacey Meyer? Rick's daughter?"

"I wouldn't know," said Eric dispassionately, watching Horatio's face closely. He was scanning the list of names over the Detective's shoulder.

"There wasn't anyone else?" He asked. "No one approached you, commented on something to you, anything?" Eric decided that Horatio was his last chance.

"There was another bartender who flirted with Ryan is passing. He was the one who took Ryan's orders since Kelly was talking to me. I don't remember his face, but he gave Ryan this weird purple drink, and Ryan only drank half of it before pushing it away. He said it tasted funny and ordered vodka instead." Horatio straightened up. The small smile on his lips gave Eric immense relief.

"Now we're getting somewhere. You don't remember anything about him?" Eric concentrated again while the other two watched him closely.

"He was blond... and there was an eyebrow piercing over his right eye... but that's all. I wasn't really paying attention to him, and we had a lot to drink afterward..."

Frank was copying down his description onto the notepad. "I'll send some boys down to the club and see if they can find anyone with this description. You want to finish up here, H?" Horatio nodded, and Frank left. Eric suddenly felt a little claustrophobic.

"So what happened after you two had drinks?"

"We danced for a while, had a run in with Stacey-"

"Define 'run in'." Eric wondered if it was possible to make things any more awkward.

"She was pissed because she felt I'd led her on. She swore for a while, she and Ryan got into a quick spat, then we left. I took Ryan home with me."

"A spat like it came blows?" asked Horatio. Eric knew that he was trying and failing to picture Ryan beating up on some random woman.

"No, he just cussed at her then we left." Horatio nodded, then reached under the table. Eric heard a small click and knew the speakers and recorders had been turned off. "Eric this is going to be off the record, because I know you better than any of the people who are going to be listening to this interview, and I want to ask you: what do you think happened?"

"I think the bartender heard us joking when Ryan asked if he didn't turn me on and got the idea that we were going to go our separate ways and decided that Ryan would probably be a loner. So he drugged Ryan's drink thinking that once I'd left him alone he'd be able to take Ryan home, and when I didn't leave the guy just gave up on him," Eric told him in a hurried voice, the words pouring out as he put them together.

Horatio sat down in the empty chair and rested his elbows on the table. "Eric, if we can't find this guy, you're probably going to jail for date rape. You're record isn't going to help anything. You've already been caught with crack..." Eric winced. He'd forgotten about that smudge on his record. "But for now, we don't have anything to hold you on, so..." Horatio stood and opened the door.

"Do you want a ride to the hospital?"

**oh my god, do you all hate me? I know this was totally unexpected, but it just seemed to fit in my opinion. Please stick with me guys, I promise it's going to lighten up next chapter. Thank you for all the reviews already, I really tried to work hard to get this out quickly as a reward! I love you all, and please review about this newest twist. Ciao babes!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello darlings, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to update. The school year is over, so you can look forward to more steady updates, because you are all such loyal reviewers!! Thank you all so much for the reviews, and prepare for the drama ahead!! Quick warning though, it does get sorta dark in the beginning.**

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 7**

**Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko**

It was like the time he and his sister had gone swimming drunk when they were teenagers. His chest was heaving, and he was gasping for air, then suddenly, his lungs would respond.

Ryan repeatedly tried to draw breath, staring at his reflection in the glass walls of the Miami Dade Crime Lab. His eyes started to widen and water as his vision was interrupted by black blotches across his sight. He slumped forward onto the table, chest heaving and catching with something blocking his airway.

And then there was black.

-oOo-

Stable. That one word was what kept Eric from going to hunt that son of a bitch from the club down; kept him in control enough not to wring the details of Ryan's condition from the doctors. He was going to be here when Ryan woke, and they were going to set things straight, God dammit.

Rubbing his eyes, Eric didn't have to glance at the clock to know what time it was. Instead, he looked over at his unexpected companion. Monica was sitting across from him in a pair of sweatpants and a sweater-vest that had been resurrected from Ryan's newbie days at the lab. Now it was covered in mascara marks from where she'd swiped tiredly at her eyes to keep awake.

It wasn't until two in the morning that the doctor finally came and uttered that sought after word. Ryan was stable- the inflammation of his organs had passed, and the anesthesia would be wearing off in a day or so. Monica, who'd sat up in her chair when the doctor came in, dropped back into it, allowing a sobbing sort of laugh out before she stood up, picking up her purse from the glass table next to her.

"Come on," she said. Eric looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "You are in some deep shit Delko, and you have some explaining to do... and I'm hungry. You're paying." Eric mumbled a few half-hearted curses at her, but stood up and followed her out the revolving hospital doors.

Monica followed him in her car to a small 24-hour diner on a corner a few blocks from the hospital. As he parked the car, Eric noticed a small thunk every time he turned. Reaching under his seat, he rescued Ryan's phone from the dark space. The screen was lit up- Rico had called three more times. Eric slipped it into his pocket next to his own phone, as he got out and met Monica on the curb. She lead the way to a small table in the corner, and he reluctantly sat down across from her.

"So talk," she commanded, pushing back the sleeves of her sweater impatiently. "What the hell is going on?" Eric rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, kneading the cramped muscles.

"Ryan had an allergic reaction to a drug that had was slipped last night at a bar. He collapsed today during work and our boss called an ambulance." Monica's eyes narrowed as he talked, giving her the same catlike look Ryan got when he was on the clock.

"Do you know who?"

"We think it was one of the bartenders there. They've already sent someone to find him, but since he works at a club, they'd have to wait until about eleven to make sure he was there. In fact, if they haven't found him by now, he's probably not coming back," Eric sighed, as a middle-aged woman with mole on her forehead approached with coffee. Eric downed his as Monica stirred hers with a plastic spoon.

"So what-" Monica was interrupted as Eric's pocket vibrated urgently. Pulling out both phones and dropping them on the table, the two leaned over Ryan's phone to read the name on the front screen.

_Rico ;)_

"Oh thank god." Monica snatched up the phone and flipped it open.

"Rico! I- no this isn't Ryan, shithead. This is Monica, and- DON'T YOU HANG UP! Yes it's important, why else would I bother talking to you. Listen, Ryan is in the hospital. I'm not explaining it to you now, you need to get your ass to the 24-hour diner on the corner of Vincent and Sunset. Yeah, there's someone you're gonna need to meet- yeah, Eric Delko. Ryan? Yes, he's alive. Unconscious, but alive. No, she's not here. Yeah, yeah, I know. Bye."

She closed the phone with a snap, dropping it back next to Eric's. "He's gonna meet us here, his flight just landed. Now anyways, what to the cops plan to do once they have the bartender?"

"Probably interrogate him, take his prints, check his record. They don't have any hard evidence to hold him, so they're going to need to make him reveal himself. If that doesn't work then... we'll just have to figure something else out."

"Yes," said Monica distantly, running a finger around the rim of her coffee cup. "_You_ probably will have to..." Before Eric could ask what she meant, the door to the shop opened and Rico walked in.

Eric hated him on sight.

Rico was about Eric's height, with shoulder-length black hair and finely arched eyebrows. He was leanly built, but less so then Ryan, who was more feminine looking. Rico had something distinctly masculine about him that set Eric on edge when he thought about Ryan and him spending any amount of time together.

Monica waved him over, and Rico came over to their table, pulling up a chair with his foot and he walked and dropping into it. He gave Monica a quick once-over and nodded before focusing on Ryan with narrowed eyes.

"So your Ryan's Eric Delko. I must say, you sounded taller when Ryan described you," he said. His voice was deep and had a seductively throaty sound to it that made Eric tense.

"I can't really say the same about you, Ryan doesn't talk about you much," Eric ground out, feeling a small sense of victory when Rico's lip curled.

"Both of you shut up. We have a lot of shit to sort through- Eric, you owe us an explanation, and Rico... we're going to need to tell him about Ryan," said Monica resignedly. Rico turned back to Eric before murmuring,

"¿Habla usted español?"

Eric nodded. "¿Sí, por qué?"

"Monica no. Quiero decir que antes nosotros le decimos algo, si usted va correr a cualquiera con esta información, nosotros no vacilaremos en quitar usted." Rico waited as Eric studied his face before nodding.

"Comprendo."

"WILL YOU BOTH FUCKING STOP THAT!" snapped Monica, pissed at being left out of the conversation, but they both ignored her.

"So who is we?" asked Eric, taking a sip of coffee as the waitress arrived with a cup for Rico. Rico took it and indicated to Monica.

"You start, I don't really come in until later," he said, stretching and glancing at his watch.

"Well, Ryan and my parents had an arranged marriage for the benefit of their parents, so they were never very in love to begin with. Over the years, the became more and more distanced, and in an attempt to bring them back together, my mother threw her husband an extravagant anniversary party, and about a month or two later, she announced to him that she was pregnant. When I was born though, they were disappointed. They had wanted a boy because my dad believed in the male birth line and wanted a son to continue his family's good name." At this, Monica paused, and both she and Rico snorted quietly then glanced at each other.

"Anyways, my father was a very wealthy... businessman, so he set me up with a few nanny's and a cook and he and my mother decided to try once more, and Ryan was born. My father... he wasn't happy, the way you'd think. Instead he was content, glad that he could return his attention to other things now that his son had been born. So for a while we didn't really see him.

"As for my mother, she threw everything she was into raising us to be successful like our father, which was probably why we're such failures as people. Don't even start," she added as Eric opened his mouth to contradict her about Ryan.

"You have to hear the whole story. When I was twelve and Ryan was eleven, my father decided it was time for us, well, Ryan to begin to learn about his business. So Ryan started coming with him to meetings every once in a while, and sometimes I was drug out and propped up to show during parties with our father's associates. Eventually, Ryan was gone as often as our father, and when he came home, he was a different person than the one I remembered. I remember at my sixteenth birthday, Ryan came with my father. He was almost... inhuman. He didn't show any emotion, hardly spoke, and he didn't like people touching him. My father was extremely proud," Monica continued, smiling bitterly.

Eric tried to picture the Ryan Monica described, remembering when Ryan had come to the lab in a snit about being transferred from patrol. How cold his eyes were and his expressionless manner, the way he seemed to _glide_... to be like that all the time. Eric found it difficult to imagine Ryan as that...

"Then one day, he came home on his own when I was seventeen, hiding from our tutor. After Ryan had left, I found out that the man had been a pedophile who'd been 'sleeping with' Ryan since he'd been hired. After Ryan left, he'd turned to me instead, and I was trying to stay away from him by hiding in the cellar of our house. Ryan had found me there and when I told him about the tutor, he just... lost it," she said quietly.

Eric was frozen with rage and horror, and Rico had sat up and was watching Monica carefully as she stirred her now-cold coffee with a spoon. They sat in silence for a while as the waitress came with more coffee and asked if they'd like to order anything. Rico, without bothering to ask any of the others, ordered the three of them pancakes and bacon. When the waitress left, Monica went on.

"I'd never seen anyone die except on the movies, and just watching Ryan do without even a tinge of sorrow in his expression was scary. He didn't even use any weapons to do it. When I'd told him, he grabbed my had and hauled me upstairs and told me to wait in the reception hall, so I was sitting on the sofa and suddenly I heard two... _screams_. I jumped and ran into the library. Our tutor was sitting in the middle of the room, and Ryan was standing across from him, observing him as the man cried. Neither of them had noticed me, and I wondered why the tutor wasn't doing anything, then I noticed what had made him cry. Both his arms were completely limp because Ryan had twisted them behind his back and broken them. Then Ryan walked around behind him and pressed his face into the man's neck. It was almost erotic, I remembered thinking. Then he whispered something in his ear and the man screamed, but Ryan grabbed the top of his head and his neck and snapped it. Our tutor was dead before he slumped."

"Fuck," Rico muttered, and Eric knew that he, like Eric, had never picture Ryan capable of something like murder, let alone doing it so unfeelingly. Monica brushed away a stray tear, and Eric realized that he couldn't bring himself to dislike her as much anymore. Rico rubbed that back of his neck, and Monica blearily glanced at the clock above the counter, while Eric contemplated everything.

Ryan Wolfe was not who Eric thought he was, that was certain. There was a deeper, darker side of him, and only a small part of it had been revealed by Monica yet. Ryan Wolfe was the victim of a pedophile. Ryan Wolfe was a murderer. Ryan Wolfe... was a mystery. How much more was there that Eric didn't know? He had a feeling that there was something much bigger that Monica wasn't telling him yet.

"Rico," Monica finally said, gesturing to him and pouring herself another cup of coffee. "You can probably pick up from here." Rico nodded and turned slightly in his chair to face Eric.

"Ryan's father called my dad and a few others a few days after. He said that Ryan had gotten into some trouble and that they wanted us to take him somewhere for a while so that he could smooth things over. So, that night, my father drove over to Ryan's house and I came with him. I still remember him standing there in that big room. He looked... creepy. He was pale and skinny, his clothes were hanging off of him, and there were bruises up and down his back and sides. I saw them when the seatbelt caught them. He didn't talk the whole ride, just stared at the back of one of the seats. He was with us a few months, but we never really warmed up to each other. I thought he was weird and didn't want to be around him, and Ryan seemed to prefer being by himself. After a while his father called him back and I didn't see him again until his grandfather's funeral."

"In that time," Monica continued, "my father had declared him the heir of his business, so Ryan was like his shadow, never leaving his side. When he turned eighteen, my father send him to college. However, it was there he met Ryan's first attempt at rebellion against him. Ryan switched all his college courses, and when my father found out, he stopped paying tuition and demanded Ryan come home. When he refused, my father stopped talking to him, deciding that being cut off from the family accounts would bring him back. But, Ryan didn't, so they didn't speak until after he had finished college.

By then my father was desperate, and he took Ryan back. For a while, it was like it had been before, even Ryan's empty expression. Then our grandfather was shot. I think he was the one person Ryan had ever opened up to. I know he was the only one that had taken Ryan's side when he killed our tutor. My father was enraged that Ryan had caused the family so much publicity."

Here Monica stopped. Both she and Rico were watching Eric intently, who refused to give anything away. Then Monica sighed.

"Eric, I can tell that you haven't figured out who Ryan is yet. Who our father is yet. But he's going to need to tell you sometime, and it could be the death of him if we don't do it now. Our father is James Wolfe, the leader of the Vice Lords." She smiled a cold, cruel smile as Eric froze. "I can see that you remember us. Of course, we don't have too much of a reach into Miami, but there's enough..." she trailed off.

This was what Mrs. Wolfe meant by betraying the family. This was why Ryan hadn't wanted them in Miami. Was it because he didn't want them to put him in danger by coming, or he didn't want them to give him away. Ryan had said his father's business was 'a little' bigger when Eric had guessed a diamond store. Eric suddenly laughed to himself. Yes, a drug lord was definitely a little bigger than that.

So Ryan was to be taking over his father's business, Eric knew that much, but-

"You came to bring him back?" he clarified. Monica nodded, seemingly surprised by his reaction. "Why didn't he want you here?"

"Ryan hasn't lied to you Eric. No, listen, when our grandfather died, he was shot on my father's orders because he felt that he was halting Ryan's progress. It was all Ryan could take, and he left after the funeral, taking our grandfather's fortune with him. My father was... well, it's hard to explain. He declared Ryan a traitor the the gang and sent people after him. But Ryan was safe in Miami. Our father couldn't reach him here, and when the other gangs heard about him, they took him in, I guess you could say. He didn't join them, but since he lived in Miami, it gave them a good excuse to attack the Vice Lord's gang."

"I saw the scene that he caused at his grandpa's funeral," Rico continued, "And I agreed with him. A month or so later, I left the gang and followed Ryan to Miami. When I found him, Ryan damn near blew my head off." Rico said with a small smile. "I came to the apartment where he was living and knocked. He opened the door with a gun and almost put a bullet through my forehead. I ran for it, and the next day he was gone, hadn't left a trace. The landlord had a false ID, and the police are probably still looking for Viktor Lensly to this day." He laughed this time, enjoying the idea.

"Eventually I caught up with him again. This time I was smarter though, so hid in his closet when he wasn't home, and when he came into his bedroom, I knocked him out with a lamp and tied him to a bedpost. He still almost took my head off when he woke up though, withering like he was possessed. So I gagged him and explained why I was there, and I showed him the scar where I'd gotten my tattoo removed. That convinced him." Rico finished, stretching. "He went back to college for a while and joined patrol with his actual identity in order to give his father a slap in the face, and I joined one of the Miami gangs," he said with a yawn before fixing Eric with a glare.

"We're both putting a lot on the line telling you this because we think that you can help. But if you give us a reason not to trust you, I will have my people take care of it."

Eric didn't bother to react to the threat.

"I'll help you. I will do whatever it takes, but I'm not doing it for you," he said to Monica, "And I'm sure as hell not doing it for you," Eric shot at Rico. "I'll help because it's Ryan."

"Your turn to talk then, Delko," said Monica, and Rico nodded."

"I took Ryan clubbing last night, and we went to a place called Miami Heat. We went to the bar to get a drink, and the bartender gave Ryan this weird purple drink that he only drank half of before asking for vodka," he said, and he saw Rico's lips twitch. "Afterwards though, he started getting a little, well affectionate, and I thought he was finally getting the nerve to flirt, so I took advantage of it, and eventually I brought him back to the house. In the morning though... he ran. He didn't want me touching him, and then you called," he said to Monica, "And I decided that if he was going to be a coward about it, then I wasn't going to have anything to do with it, so I went to work. That's when I was told that he was in the hospital."

"So you think it was the bartender who drugged him?" asked Rico, and Eric nodded.

"He was the only one to have contact with his drink, and Ryan didn't have anything else at the club, he was with me the whole time." Monica looked thoughtful.

"Okay then, assuming that he did drug Ryan's drink. Why bother? I mean, he was with you, the bartender wasn't going to get anything out of it..." Eric shrugged.

"I think he heard us joking about not being attracted to each other and thought he'd have a chance and gave up when he saw that he didn't." Rico frowned.

"I dunno, it's an expensive drug to buy, and it would have been difficult to find it. Unless he's a gang member, I don't see how he could have had access to it."

"So you think someone gave it to him? Who would though, I mean, what are the chances that the person you're targeting just happens into the right place while you're on shift?" ask Monica.

"It had to be more organized than that, so someone who had control of informatives. That eliminates a lot of minor people. Which means that it's a higher-up who planned this," said Eric. They all fell silent as the waitress came with three plates of pancakes and a large platter of bacon. Rico grabbed his plate and stuffed an entire pancake into his mouth, then yelped when Monica stopped his foot with her heels and shot him a look of disgust.

It made Eric realize the true irony of the moment. The three of them working together- two members of enemy gangs and a CSI trying to help a cop.

Suddenly, Eric's phone rang. They all froze and stared at the cell vibrating on the center of the table. Eric slowly picked it up and flipped it open.

"Delko."

"Eric? This is Horatio. Frank found the bartender a few miles away from the club. He's in the station."

"You're sure it's him?" ask Eric, not daring to breathe in case he couldn't hear Horatio's answer.

"Yeah, it's him. Scott Barlow, the only problem is he's higher than a kite right now. We're going to have to wait an hour or so for him to become intelligible."

"Alright, thanks H. I'll be there in twenty." Shutting the phone, he looked at the other two. "They found the bartender. I'm going over to the lab." Monica reached out and snatched a napkin out of the dispenser and produced a pen.

"This is my cell phone number," she said, writing on it then passing it to Rico, who wrote his. "Call us when you have something. We're going to do a little digging. Eric nodded and put the napkin in his pocket. They all stood up and got their stuff together while Eric payed the check, then walked out to their separate cars.

By Eric's watch, it was almost six in the morning. He waited for Monica and Rico to pull out, then started his car and went in the opposite direction, heading for the Lab.

-oOo-

**translation: **

Do you speak spanish?

Yes, why?

Monica doesn't. I want to say that before we tell you anything, if you go running to anyone with this information, we won't hesitate to take you out.

I understand.

-oOo-

**yaaaay, end of chapter 7! omg, i'm sorry if it got too heavy or if something wasn't explain thouroughly enough. Pls review and tell me if something needs fixed or you want to tell me how I did ;) let me know what you guys think of the plot, and once again, i'm sorry it took me so long to get this up!! **

**love you guys! Ciao**


	8. Chapter 8

**Well, we are starting to draw to a close- don't worry tho, I still have a few chapters to squeeze out. I've been a little creatively challenge because the apocalypse has come: school is starting back. And I'm going to high school. It's not even funny how terrified I am, but I do have a neighbor who works there and said that I could drop by any time, so I get my own inside connection. Phew! Anywho, on with the story for all you wonderful readers!**

**Free Falling**

**Ch. 8**

**Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/ Eric Delko**

Ryan ho-hummed to himself, glancing around his sterile hospital room for the umpteenth time, thoroughly bored by his surroundings.

'Observations my ass,' Ryan grumped to himself, convinced that Horatio had probably asked he be kept strapped down until he was calm. He was like a mother-hen underneath, one that could give Alexx a run for her money.

Ryan sighed, having been to too many victim interviews to be ignorant of the fact that he was trying to block his memories. But that was the problem- he didn't _have_ any. No matter how long he'd sat and concentrated, he couldn't remember his night with Eric past the drinks. Well, at least not all of it, he'd managed to conjure some brief flashes of it, but not enough to piece anything together.

He could recall calling for vodka, and he remembered swearing at some girl before dragging someone behind him. The rest was a complete blank until he'd woken up at their- no, Eric's- place with one hell of a headache and something sticky on the inside of his thighs. For a minute, he'd been in a panicked shock, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Muddled by the heavy scent of sex in the bedroom, he'd retreated to the shower, slowly drawing scenes out of his murky memories.

For a minute he was furious- who the hell did Eric think he was, making those kind of decisions for him without Ryan's say-so? But then Ryan wondered something that froze him: had this happened before? Had Eric drugged him before when Ryan had said he was going to nap and had ended up drugged to make him forget? The sudden touch of Eric's lips to his nape had scared the shit out of him, and he'd bolted, running instead to the last place he'd thought he'd ever go- back to his relatives.

Thank god Monica had talked him out of that. Instead, she'd said he needed some time to think and told him to get some air. He'd gone to the most familiar place he'd had- the Lab, avoiding everyone and setting up camp in his part of the lab and analyzing anything that came in, not even listening to the different cases, something that usually fascinated him. He was desperate to keep his mind occupied so that he wouldn't have to think. The sudden lapse into unconsciousness had almost been a welcome relief.

Sinking back against the lumpy hospital mattress, Ryan scrubbed tiredly at his eyes, but jerked awake when he heard his door open, heart thumping madly.

It wasn't who he'd thought. Calleigh, Alexx, and Speed were standing in the doorway, but he didn't see Eric anywhere. He smiled warmly at them as they all pulled up chairs and settle around his bed. Speed dropped a large wrapped box on his lap, grinning.

"I happen to know that the food here sucks, so we thought we'd bring you something to keep you from trying to think of more creative ways to use the stuff. By the way," Speed added, his voice dropping to a whisper, "When the pudding congeals, you can crack it and make little building blocks out of it."

Ryan grinned, giving him a conspiratorial wink before he was descended upon by Alexx.

"Mmm-mmm, poor baby," she said mournfully, giving his discarded food a poke with the plastic spoon and wincing. "They aren't treating you right."

"It's not so bad," Ryan said, depositing the box on his bedside table. "My nurse is actually quite sexy," he said with a grin, which widened as said nurse walked in. She was a heavy-set German woman named Helga who grunted at him before taking his tray and leaving. Calleigh giggled and Speed winced. Alexx just tutted.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, and Calleigh blinked innocently at him.

"Whatever do you mean Ryan? We just wanted to check on our youngest teammate and see how he's doing, so-"

"You just wanted to get out of the lab," Ryan deadpanned, and Speed coughed conspicuously, making Ryan shake his head. "It's a good thing you guys are on the good side, because you suck at lying. So how's... everyone?" They were all silent at the sudden venom in his voice, knowing to whom he was referencing. Finally Calleigh managed to find the words she was looking for.

"Ryan, you should know that Eric (Ryan hissed at the name, and she could almost see the invisible hair on his neck stand) didn't know that you were drugged. Horatio says that if he had handled the drug he would have had some signs of it because it can kill cells when it's handled, so his nails would have been discolored, or his hands would have been irritated, and they were fine. We think-" she paused as Ryan convulsed slightly. "We think it was the bartender."

"Ryan, honey, should I call a doctor?" asked Alexx, looking panicked and feeling out of place in a hospital for the living as Ryan spasmed again.

Ryan felt horrid. After spending so much time with Eric and building such a strong trust with him, Ryan had allowed it to shatter at the slightest blow. Though, of course, it had a rather heavy blow, but Ryan shrank from the fact that he hadn't even given Eric a chance to defend himself and had just run, like the coward he was.

Alexx ran a soothing hand over his forehead as he stared blankly at he wall. "Ryan, it wasn't your fault. You were confused and hurt, and it only made sense. Eric's not in any trouble, and-" She stopped at all three of their cellphones rang. Ryan caught a glance of Calleigh's, who was nearest.

_Txt from: _Horatio

_We've got him. Lab in twenty._

"I'm coming," Ryan demanded, knowing as soon as he shifted that there was no way he'd even be able to get up, let alone walk. Calleigh seemed to agree.

"Absolutely not- the doctors said they wanted to keep you for observation, and that you were going to be here for at least another day. So _sit down_, and we'll call you when we have something." With that, they all speed-walked back through the door, leaving Ryan to cuss behind them.

-oOo-

Eric watched the man on the other side of the glass carefully, registering every twitch when Horatio spoke, looking for some indication that he was lying.

"So you're telling me that someone just gave you a package of GHB and walked away?" The bartender shook his blond head drunkenly, slurring his words due to cocaine after-effects as he answered.

"Nuuuhhuh. She gave me a picture and said that he would probably come in- if he did, I could have him. If he didn't, I could just keep it. But she said that if I did, that there'd be something else for me later and gave me a phone number. And then," he paused, giggling slightly and tugging at his loose and stained shirt, "There he was!"

"Do you still have the picture she gave you?" Horatio waited as he reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. Horatio unfolded it and looked at it before discreetly showing it to Eric on the other side of the blackened window. It had apparently been taken when Ryan, who was looking sick, was ready for it instead of the underground secrecy photos that someone on stakeout had taken. He was leaning against the side of a large fireplace that was as large as he was. The size of it alone was the equivalent of Eric's bathroom. In the grate was a large charred log which was still smoldering.

Horatio studied the bartender carefully and he continued to pull at his shirt.

"So you drugged him and took him out to an alleyway?"

"NOOOOOOOO whuy, sir capiton!" the man stuttered in return. "I never got my chance, which sucked case he was hottt- I bet he was tight as-" He was cut off as Horatio grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up.

"We are not talking about your sick fantasies, you son of a bitch." Tossing him back down Horatio settled himself against the wall, but Eric could see that the comment had agitated him almost as much as it had Eric. "So what did you do then?

"Nuthin'. He was there with some other guy and they went off together. I kept and eye on him in case the guy left 'im, but they left together. I figured he would just get a free night on me."

They paused as Calleigh walked in, kit in hand, nodding to Eric before closing the door behind her. As she prepared different chemicals on cotton pads, Horatio continued.

"So later, after you were off shift. Where did you get the drugs?"

"I called the number. Some guy picked up and told me I could get them in the dumpster way up on 13th, so I drove up there and there it was! Packaged all pretty too," he said, grinning stupidly, still muddled by the drugs.

"I want the number as well," Horatio instructed, and the bartender delved into his pockets again and forked over a strip of paper with a number written in red ink.

"Hands out," said Calleigh coldly, and wiped his hands with several different swabs before capping them and whipping out a camera to photograph the discoloration on the tips of his fingers. Finally, she packed everything up and stalked out, followed by Horatio, who was holding the paper with a tissue between his finger and the message and photo.

"We might be able to get some prints of them," Eric said, examining them. "That might be a partial there. I'll-"

"No Eric," said Horatio with a sigh. "You're personally involved in this case- I can't have you working it or our evidence will be thrown out. So, I'm giving you the day off while we work on this." With that he left to take the paper to the print lab. Calleigh patted him on the shoulder.

"We saw Ryan this morning. He already knows- we told him about the bartender. And..." She sighed, looking awkward. "He misses you."

Eric watched them walk away, unsure what to do. He didn't want to face Ryan just yet- it was like he was going to meet a entirely different person. How much didn't he know? Instead, Eric pulled out his cellphone and the napkin from the diner that had Monica's and Rico's number on it. He called Monica first.

"What do you know?" asked Monica, not even bothering to answer properly.

"The bartender admits to drugging him. He said some woman gave him the drugs and said that he'd get more if he drugged Ryan. She gave him a picture and said to call a number if he'd drugged him."

"That's pretty chancy- I mean, what are the chances that he would just happen to walk into that bar? You know what, hold on, I'm going to get Rico on." Eric waited until Rico was on the line with them.

"So what's going on?" he demanded. Eric repeated what he told Monica and Rico grunted in return.

"Monica's right, it has a lot of holes. So what, you thinking a stakeout?" The question was directed at Monica.

"That's the only way I can see them knowing where he might be. You've been going to that club for a while now, right Eric?" she asked.

"Yeah, a couple months at least. I was there almost three times a week for a while," Eric answered. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"We're thinking that someone knew that Ryan was staying with you and did a bit of checking on you. It probably would have been pretty easy to find out that you'd been hitting the one club, so they decided to take a chance and bribed a bartender," Rico explained. "But who would bother? I mean, if they had a photo, they were targeting Ryan specifically, so it's not some guy with a grudge against the law."

"But at the same time," added Monica, "they didn't want to get directly involved."

"That hints that either it's not personal for them, or they're overly cautious and didn't think their revenge would be worth the possibility of being traced," Eric said, mulling over the possibilities. "But either way, we're looking for someone who knew Ryan and had something against him." Monica snorted at that.

"Well hell, that would be half the underground world, Delko," said Rico, laughing. "Ryan managed to piss off quite a few people before he left."

"Well, they way they set it up isn't very vengeful- I mean, the worst that they could have come up with would have been being taken advantage of by some asshole and then moving on. So what's the point of that?" asked Monica. "It's just not worth all that trouble. If I were serious about it, I think I'd do something a bit more extreme.

"Unless," Eric breathed, "They knew what his reaction would be. If they had known that he had an allergy to it, then it wouldn't matter what happened while he had the drug. It could have just been about _giving_ him the drug."

"Okay then, assuming that the bartender was paid just to get Ryan the drug so that he'd have some sort of attack," said Rico, "Then what? Monica, would it have been severe enough to kill him?"

"It wasn't that big of a dosage. We recovered the package that the bartender got the drug in, and it wasn't a fatal amount," answered Eric. They were all silent for a moment before Monica spoke.

"So they just wanted him in the hospital... to get him out of the way?" she questioned.

"Nah, there are much better ways to take someone out, they wouldn't have needed to set up something so elaborate." answered Rico, sounding frustrated. Eric shook his head- they needed more to go on.

"Well listen guys, I'm- I'm going to go talk to Ryan, so call me back if you guys find anything." They all hung up.

-oOo-

Ryan grunted quietly as his nurse stuck him with another needle, administering his last dose of glucose. The nurse made a sympathetic sound, patted him on the back and smiled.

"Well, there yah go, hun. The doctor will be in with your prescription for the pain killers, then you can go home. You need to call for a ride?" she asked, gesturing toward the phone. Ryan started to agree, but someone else answered for him.

"It's fine, I'll take him home." Ryan whipped around then yelped when the needle moved under his skin. He could see Eric wince as he walked over to hold Ryan still as the nurse removed the needle while scolding Ryan for moving around while she was trying to work. Still tsking under her breath, she walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey," Eric murmured, sitting next to Ryan on the bed.

"Hey," Ryan returned, not knowing what else to say. They sat and stared at each other.

"I'm sorry," Ryan finally said, looking at his hands. Eric sounded surprised and a little annoyed when he answered.

"For what?"

"For not giving you a chance to explain- and for not trusting you," he started.

"What the hell are you talking about?" demanded Eric. He sounded pissed and Ryan finally looked up at him. "You scare the shit out of me, out of the whole team, almost die due to being drugged by someone, and you think I came here to hear you apologize for not understanding me?" He snorted. "You must have a very low opinion of me if you think I came to the hospital to listen to you grovel."

Ryan felt a smile creeping up his face as Eric huffed at him. Leaning forward he pressed his lips tentatively against Eric's, who stilled immediately to lean hungrily forward, smiling against Ryan's mouth. When Eric pulled back, it was to wrap his arms around Ryan and pull him partially into his lap. Ryan pressed his face into Eric's neck, enjoying the first of this kind of contact that he could remember.

Eric dipped his head to nibble on Ryan's ear, then smiled when he heard the same purr he'd heard two nights ago. Tracing Ryan's backbone through the hospital gown, Eric also confirmed that it was still Ryan's sweet spot as he arched suddenly into him with a moan, which was cut short when the door opened to reveal Monica and Rico.

Monica took one look at Ryan's heated face and the hostilely victorious look Eric was sending Rico and turned, shoving Rico out in front of her, and shutting the door. Eric laughed as Ryan groaned into his chest.

"That was humiliating." Eric gave Ryan a nip to to the neck and stood, still grinning.

"I'm going to go pick up your things- be back in sec." Ryan nodded and dropped back onto the bed, still red faced.

Eric stepped out into the hall to face Monica, who still looked extremely flustered (which made Eric grin), and Rico, who looked ready to kill (which made Eric grin even wider).

"I'm assuming you have something to tell me?" he asked, leaning against the door frame. Rico just growled, so Monica answered.

"Yeah," she said, the embarrassment leaving her face; she looked suddenly serious as she checked her watch. "You should be getting the call soon." The words had barely left her mouth when Eric's phone vibrated. He glanced down an the text.

_Txt from: _Calleigh

_Possible bomb alert at Ryan's. Working case with H. Will call later w. details_

"Well fuck," was finally what Eric came up with five minutes later. Monica snorted.

"Yeah- we think that's why someone wanted Ryan in the hospital," she said, sitting down on one of the cheap pleather sofas, which squeaked under her.

"That could be any number of reasons. They could have wanted him out to plant it."

"No way- they could have just done that while he was at work. Why go through with the whole drug thing?" asked Rico, sounding skeptical.

"Maybe they wanted to make sure they finished him off- or maybe they heard that Ryan hadn't died from the drug and decided to just blow it to be sure they got him when he would be home," suggested Monica, scooting over so that Rico could sit next to her. Eric shrugged.

"Maybe someone wanted to make sure he _wouldn't _be there," he offered, scratching the stubble on his chin. "If they knew it was going to happen and they didn't want him to be there..."

They sat in silence for a moment before Eric leaned away from the door and stretched.

"I have to go get Ryan's things, then I'll take him home. With me," he clarified. "Call me if something comes up. I'm going to talk to the bartender again." Eric left them in the hallway and went to the front counter, where a heavy woman with a German accent gave him a box labeled 'Wolfe'.

When Eric finally got back he was surprised to see that Ryan was fast asleep.

Until Ryan peeked at him from his left eye.

"Are they gone?" he mouthed. Eric assumed he meant his sister and Rico and nodded. Ryan sat up and began stuffing his legs into his jeans. "Thank god- It was took awkward to face them," he admitted sheepishly. "So are you my ride home?"

Eric gave him an overly dramatic bow and grinned. "At your service," he purred, straightening and giving Ryan one to the mouth.

As they were driving home, Eric updated Ryan on his case so far, telling him about the bartender and how he'd admitted to slipping him the drugs based on a photo. Ryan had frowned at the description of the picture, and Eric guessed that it bothered him to know that someone was carrying around photos of him and showing them to druggies.

When they finally reached the apartment, Eric leapt down from the Hummer and walked around to unload Ryan, who was making a face every time he bent over to grasp the door handle. Eric settled him on the ground, but kept their hands clasped. Striding up the front walk, Eric had just been jokingly telling Ryan that he'd had the place cleaned when it happened.

-oOo-

It took Ryan a minute to process that he'd been blown into the bullet-proof shield of the Hummer as the roar of the explosion blew them both of their feet. Ryan saw the blinding flames for a moment before he was distracted by the realization that Eric wasn't next to him. Rolling of the hood of the car, he stumbled over to the front garden, where he could see the Cuban's poking out from the hydrangea.

Dropping next to him, Ryan hauled him back out. He was still breathing, but his gaze was unfocused, reflecting the flames.

"Eric, are you alright? Are you burnt or hurt anywhere?" Ryan demanded check him over with his eyes. Eric didn't answer for a moment before...

"Sonnuva bitch."

**haha, I just HAD to end with that :3 I hope this chappie wasn't too heavy or anything, I was trying to set the scene. Also, please let me know if the plot has gotten cheesy or predictable or- god forbid- cheap. I definitely need to put my dose of smut in, but if its being overdone or its not believable, PLEASe tell me. **

**THIS CHAPPIE IS A GIFT FOR ALL YOU POOR SOULS (MYSELF INCLUDED) WHO'VE GONE BACK TO SCHOOL. Ciao babes **


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